Himerus and Eros
by HarvardDropout
Summary: With Stan married and not wanting to continue their affairs, Kyle doesn't know what to do anymore. Now that Stan's out of the way, will Kenny finally get his chance to prove his affection to the stubborn redhead, or will Kyle just refuse to let Stan go?
1. The Wedding

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Hey Everyone! This story's been sloshing around in my head for a while I hope you enjoy, and any reviews and thoughts would be much appreciated along the way!

**SUMMARY:** While Kyle loved Stan, Stan lusted after Kyle, and he made it clear that once he had tied the knot with Wendy and was officially married that he wanted to put an end to their affairs and sweep them under the rug once and for all. Now with Stan out of the way, will Kenny be able to finally make the feelings he's been harboring for the redhead since high school known to him, or will Stan continue to get in the way?

* * *

"But you didn't have to cut me off,

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing."

**Gotye **- Somebody That I Used to Know

* * *

It was supposed to rain that day.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony,"

It was supposed to come down hard, like cats and dogs so to speak.

"Which is an honourable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church,"

That didn't stop them, though. Wendy was hellbent on her wedding day being the 10th of August. She wanted a summer wedding, but had to be sure the weather would be nice enough for an outdoor ceremony, without the sun scorching the guests.

"Which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among all men,"

Or maybe she didn't want to spontaneously combust from all that hairspray she used. It'd explain why she insisted that the lattice arch they were getting married under was beneath a sort of white, elegant fabric tarp. Going the extra distance, just to be sure.

"And therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God."

Kyle smirked wryly at that last line. He had a feeling that Stan was definitely afraid of God, as proven by his enthusiasm to get married as soon as possible when Wendy toyed with the idea of moving the wedding date sooner. On the other hand, he didn't think Stan was afraid at all... at least, he definitely didn't seem like it all those times he'd clutched Kyle's hips with a bruising strength and shouted God's name in vain to nobody in particular.

"Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

Stan gave a quick glance out over the audience, meeting Kyle's hurt-filled eyes. He didn't even hold his gaze for a second before turning back to his almost-wife, rolling his shoulders as if he'd just realized his suit coat was too snug. Kyle knew that Stan did that when he was nervous.

Stan did a lot of things when he was nervous, like toss his phone back and forth between his hands, or rub at his eyes, or clear his throat incessantly until his voice was hoarse and he'd be a perfect candidate for a tonsillectomy. Kyle knew him better than Stan knew himself. It's only expected when you've dedicated the past forever of your life to someone though, and Kyle didn't like to dwell on that thought much since Stan wasn't dedicated to him.

"I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it."

Stan wasn't going to confess, that was for certain. He'd take his lust-ridden nights in bed with Kyle to his grave, even if they were now definitely through with them since Stan was about to tie the knot. Kyle couldn't help but be hopeful for a split moment at the thought of him admitting, though.

"_This has to stop," Stan had said while pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't want this going on when I'm married. I have to be faithful to Wendy."_

_They sat across from each other in that Harbucks shop, Kyle chewing on his bottom lip with his eyes focused on the square patterns of the table. He knew this was going to happen sooner or later, but he was hoping it wouldn't. He thought that, maybe, Stan would drop this dead end relationship with Wendy and be with him instead. _

"_Why," Kyle squeaked as he tried to choke back a sob. Kyle had given everything he possibly could to Stan, more so than Wendy, yet his feelings were still unrequited. What more could he want? "I thought we were doing good."_

"_We're not doing anything, Kyle. We're just messing around. That's all."_

_Kyle fumbled with his hands. "Oh."_

"_I love Wendy."_

"_I know."_

"_I love you too, man. It's just, I don't love you that way. You're my best friend, you know? I'll always care about you."_

"_I know." _

_Stan put his hand over Kyle's. "So you'll still be my best man, right?"_

_Kyle nodded defeatedly. _

"_Cool."_

The branches on the trees began to whip around haphazardly as the sound of an oncoming storm brewed in the not so far off distance. Kyle looked at Clyde, who stood right behind Stan in the spot where Kyle had agreed to have been in.

Kyle tried to be Stan's best man for the wedding, he really did, but it was all just too much for him. During each trip to the tux shop, Kyle found himself crying in one of the fitting room stalls. When the wedding preparations called for rehearsals, Kyle had made sure he was at the hospital, working hard during his final years of residency. When he was tasked with the responsibility of coming up with a speech, he'd thrown up all over the wedding planner and his meticulously shined leather shoes.

"Do you take this man, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall live 'till death you part?"

"I do."

Kyle felt a drop of water fall onto his nose from above. All hell was about to break loose in a matter of minutes and he was sitting outside, watching onward for that final bittersweet moment, as if he were welcomely waiting for the storm to drown him in his sorrows. He wondered for a second how long it'd take for that to happen if he did go out like that.

"Do you take this woman, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall live 'till death you part?"

Kyle felt his heart pounding in his throat as the priest asked those words to Stan this time. He knew that it wasn't the end of the ceremony by a longshot since the priest still had a long winded speech to plow through, but to him, it was the end of everything he knew and loved. His fingernails dug deep into his palms as he shook gently in his seat, fighting as hard as he could to hold back the river of tears that were stinging his eyes one by one.

_Don't cry. Don't. Don't. Don't._

"I do."

That was the final straw that had Kyle up and fleeing for the large double doors to the recreational center, tears clouding his vision, wasting no time to look over his shoulder to see that nobody was even paying him any attention except for one person.

Kenny McCormick didn't even think about what he was doing when he hopped down from the small stage and chased after the distressed redhead, leaving the rest of the guys trailing behind Stan at the altar. The only thing on his mind was finding his old friend and comforting him to the best of his abilities. He'd kept his eyes on Kyle since the moment he came to the wedding twenty minutes late and found a seat in the far back, and it took all of his willpower to not abandon his post to engulf Kyle in a warm and loving embrace. Once he saw those tears though, he couldn't just stand there anymore as if everything was okay.

"Kyle?" he called out while looking around the huge room. It was set up for the reception that would take place soon, with names on place cards and streamers strung about. 'CONGRATULATIONS MR. AND MRS. MARSH' read across a large banner that took up half of one of the walls. Kenny frowned and shook his head as he continued his search.

The sound of muffled sobs got his attention and he pushed open the heavy door to the bathroom where he found Kyle leaning against the sink with his face in his hands, his shoulders rising and falling with each cry. It pained Kenny to see Kyle in such an emotionally stressful state, and he hurried over to his friend and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to his chest. Kyle returned the gesture and held onto his shoulders, bawling into the crook of Kenny's neck.

"Shhh, it's alright," Kenny cooed as he rubbed circles into Kyle's upper back. He kept his eyes closed, taking in the scent of Kyle's auburn hair. He held his breath for a second before releasing it. It smelled like strawberries. He remembered that Kyle always used that berry scented Herbal Essence shampoo when they shared an apartment in New York. "It's okay."

"I can't believe h-him," Kyle whined, his words vibrating against Kenny's neck, who suppressed a shudder. "I just can't believe t-this is really happening! What am I supposed to do n-now? He was t-the only person I ever really opened up to!"

Kenny continued to hold his friend close and whispered, "He's not worth it, Kyle. You can do so much better. You deserve so much more." He felt Kyle's breath hitch in his chest for a second before continuing to sob some more into his neck, occasionally drying his eyes on Kenny's suit jacket. It was pointless though, since he just kept crying. "He's an asshole and you know it."

Kyle nodded along meekly in agreement and Kenny pulled back, wiping Kyle's tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand. Kyle's forest-green eyes were glazed over with sadness, and Kenny wanted nothing more than to press his lips to Kyle's, but this wasn't the time to do that. He wasn't sure if there ever would be a time for that, actually. Ten years had almost completely rolled by since Kenny stumbled across his feelings for his nerdy red-haired friend, and not a day amongst that wasted time was there when Kyle would stop chasing after Stan long enough for Kenny to make his affection known. Instead, he bottled it up inside, providing a listening ear whenever Kyle needed to vent his frustrations out over the now-married man.

The sound of thunder cracked outside, and as if the floodgates opened, the sound of rain poured onto the roof above them.

"Sheesh, hope they're not still out there fucking around," Kenny laughed as he reached behind Kyle to grab a tissue from the dispenser on the wall. He held it out to his friend, who graciously took it and blew his nose.

Silence fell over them for a while before Kyle, who's breathing had finally evened out, decided to speak up.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned curiously while tossing the used tissue away. Kenny furrowed his brows.

"It's Stan's wedding?"

"I meant why did you come after me when I left."

Kenny shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously as he wracked his brain for an answer. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Kyle nodded, sniffled, and ran a hand up and down his arm uncomfortably. He didn't know what to say. It'd been months since they'd last crossed paths just barely at the Marsh's annual spring barbeque. "I haven't heard from you in a while. What's been up?"

"That's because nobody calls me to hang out."

"You still live around here?"

"Of course I still live around here," Kenny answered sharply, feeling offended and forgotten about. "I live in the same exact apartment since I dropped out and moved back. You know that." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Or maybe you don't, since I don't exist to you guys anymore apparently."

Kyle chewed the inside of his lip. "I know I've been a bit distant,"

"Distant is when someone doesn't answer your call for a few days." Kenny interrupted. "You haven't returned a single _one _of my calls since November, and that was when you were freaking out because Stan proposed to Wendy. You don't stop by to see if I'm alright, or even invite me over when there's something going on. You forgot about me. You both did."

It was Kenny's turn to be hurt now. Kyle straightened himself up, trying not to show the feeling of guilt that was beginning to wash over him as those words rolled off Kenny's tongue. Kyle had to admit that he hadn't been the best friend he could possible be for Kenny, and he might have been really selfish. "I'm sorry."

Kenny sighed and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. He didn't mean to snap at Kyle like he had done. Now wasn't the time to voice his hurt feelings, but to be there for Kyle instead. "Just forget about it, that's not the reason why I'm in here with you right now." The redhead nodded and looked at the floor. Kenny took a deep breath. "I know it's been a long time since we really talked or even hung out, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, alright?" He placed his hands on Kyle's shoulders, who looked up to meet his stare. "If you need anything—_anything_—Don't hesitate to give me a call or even come over. No matter what it is. I don't care if you need another fucking _kidney—_I'm here."

For the first time since the whole wedding fiasco began, Kyle felt a smile tug at his lips. It was small, but it was still there. "Thanks, Kenny... You're a great friend. I really appreciate it."

Kenny just hummed and pulled him back in for another hug. Closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Kyle's strawberry shampoo, he quietly and desperately hoped for the boy to get in touch with him soon, even if it was just to listen to him whine about Stan.

Cheering and champagne bottles popping could be heard outside the bathroom door, making Kyle cringe. Kenny just rubbed his back once more. The reception must have started.

"Let's go finish this stupid wedding," Kenny said while pulling away. Kyle nodded glumly and kept hot on Kenny's heel as they exited the bathroom, finding that the reception was in full swing and speeches were being given. Clyde had his glass lifted in air, giving a toast to the newlyweds, who sat above everyone else at an elevated table at the front of the room. Stan was wearing the biggest smile that Kyle had ever seen, and it made him feel horrible at the fact it wasn't him that put it there.

Kenny looked for a table with two empty spots and dragged Kyle along with him, ignoring the place cards that had names printed across them in some sort of fancy script writing. He wasn't in the mood to bullshit around with reserved seating.

Stan's smile and Wendy's glow made Kyle feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to shrink in his seat as much as possible and prayed to God that Stan wouldn't look at him, reducing him to tears. When Kyle felt Kenny's hand grab his under the table though, he calmed down considerably. He looked over to his blonde counterpart who had just let him cry on his shoulder in the bathroom and nodded as a sort of thanks. Kenny gave him a small smile in return.

The speeches seemed to drag on forever, and the first dance was no more bearable. Kyle managed to push through it all though, even through the heart-wrenching scene where Stan shoved his piece of wedding cake into Wendy's face with a gleeful chuckle, making everyone laugh along as he licked some of the icing off of her cheek.

Kenny stood besides Kyle the whole night, giving him reassurance when he needed it and even helping to keep him distracted while Stan and Wendy danced happily together. When the wedding was finally over and everyone was standing around outside giving their final goodbyes and congratulations, Kyle ran, wanting to get as far away as he possibly could. Kenny had went back inside to look for a Dr. Pepper at Kyle's request, only to return to find Kyle gone from their spot near the curb.

"Well at least I tried," Kenny groaned as his shoulders dropped. He threw the can of soda into the parking lot with all the strength he could muster up, making sure not to hit one of the cars in fear of having to pay for the damages, and sat down with a hand pressed to his forehead. He wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting to happen after all of that, so it was stupid of him to have gotten his hopes up, even if just a little bit.


	2. Late Night Visitor

"I'm the one, I've been here for you all along.

I'm the one, the shoulder you've been crying on."

**The Descendents** - I'm The One

* * *

Kenny found himself in front of the television with a can of beer in hand. The only thing on at the moment were those half-hour infomercials and he couldn't sleep for shit, so he had to deal with whatever hand his basic cable plan dealt.

He popped the top and took a swig. Feeling too much like his deadbeat father, he grumbled and got up to pour it out in the sink, grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge instead and made his way back to the couch.

_Flavorwave oven. Cool._

It'd been a few days since the wedding and he still hadn't heard from Kyle. He'd been half-expecting for him to come over sooner or later and had even made sure to have Kyle's favorite snacks stocked up in the kitchen: Twizzlers, Dr. Pepper, and knock-off brand Cheetos. Kenny wanted to get the actual ones, but he was already splurging more than he could afford while still having enough to help cover Karen's college tuition, his own failed loans, and take care of the rent. He didn't think Kyle would mind too much.

He frowned at his thoughts. Kyle had been on his mind constantly since he'd heard he was going to be Stan's best man, and finally seeing him at the wedding made his head spin. Kyle looked so sad and broken, and Kenny couldn't handle that. He couldn't handle knowing that the feisty firecracker that was Kyle had lost it's spark.

Kenny sighed, taking a sip of the Dr. Pepper. He'd give anything to see Kyle happy, even if that meant putting himself through the pain and misery he felt everyday for the past nine and a half years for another hundred. Kyle meant everything to him. He was Kenny's world whether he knew it or not, and Kenny was madly in love with him.

He'd had it bad for Kyle since sophomore year in high school — well, since _his _sophomore year. Kyle was a senior while Kenny had been a sophomore, despite the fact they'd begun high school at the same time. Kyle worked tediously all year round, even through the summer, to get ahead as much as he possibly could, netting him the ability to graduate two years earlier than the rest of them. Kenny's sophomore year was when he began to experiment with drugs and alcohol. He found himself delving deeper and deeper into trouble with nobody around him paying him any mind, free to drink, pop, inhale, smoke, and even snort whatever he wanted. That was, until Kyle noticed what was going on and helped Kenny get back on track. Kenny appreciated the help he received from Kyle since it wasn't often he was cared about. That was what had drawn Kenny in—Kyle's undivided attention.

Once he had a taste of the love—albeit only friendly—that Kyle could offer, he found himself craving more. It became a sort of need to Kenny, being noticed by Kyle. He'd try to get as close as possible to the redhead, realizing that Kyle was full of amazing qualities: Smart, ethical, moral, athletic, caring, and so many others. He even thought Kyle's stubbornness and temper were adorable, and absolutely went crazy over Kyle's not-so-well-hidden nerdy side. He didn't understand how he hadn't noticed any of this before, and he was mentally kicking himself since he was too late. Two years before then, Kyle had begun to see Stan in a new light other than just as a friend. Kenny wasn't shaken though, and decided to wait his turn.

Eventually this sort of obsession sprouted into love over the next couple of years. While Kenny was closing out his time as a senior at Park County High School, Kyle was finishing up his associates degree at the local community college. Stan had expressed interest in going to New York to attend the state university while Wendy decided to head for California to go to UCLA and promised to wait for him. Kyle, still head over heels for Stan, tossed away his dreams of Harvard to tag along and attend the same school as him. Kenny barely made it through high school, but he managed to do so for the sake of following Kyle to New York like a blind puppy.

He gave the can a subtle shake to estimate how much he had left. Glad to feel that the can was a little more than half full, Kenny reached down near his feet where there was a bag of sunflower seeds. Shoving one in his mouth, he sucked the salt from the shell and spit it out onto the coffee table in front of him, doing it again with a new one. Suck, spit, repeat. He smirked. That was his method of "eating" sunflower seeds since he didn't have the patience to deal with finding a way to open them to extract the irritably small treat. Cracking the seeds with his teeth managed to get the shell wedged painfully between his bottom canines, and his nails were too short to fuck around with prying them open, so he'd have to do without. Sure he could have bought the pre-cleaned ones, but he'd rather get punched in the face before proving to the store clerk that he was a failure at eating sunflower seeds. Kyle might have been the stubborn one, but Kenny definitely had his moments, too.

Kenny shuddered at the thought of a shell getting stuck between his teeth and spit the current offender out. He could take a lot of things—and God knows he has—but dental pain was definitely the _worst _type of pain he could ever be put through.

"Hmm," he hummed as his attention wandered from the television to an old worn out concert poster that was taped to the wall right above it. He wasn't sure why he still had it since he was quite confident he hated the band with a burning passion. It was from a Modest Mouse show in New York that Stan and Kyle had gone to as some sort of date or whatever, and Kenny had decided to impose himself on the two. With a deep breath in, he tried to spit a sunflower seed at the poster. He missed and hit his video game rack instead.

God, he was _so_ bored.

He popped another seed into his mouth, sucked off the salt, inhaled, and puckered his lips. Missed again. That stupid poster. It wasn't even Kyle's favorite band. Kyle just forced himself to like it since Stan did, which in turn caused Kenny to attempt to like them as well so that Kyle would pay him some attention for once.

Kenny gave an irritable groan and tossed his head back against the couch. He couldn't help but remember that night when his whole world seemed to fall apart.

_It was nearing midnight, and Kenny was studying in his bedroom in the apartment that he, Stan, and Kyle shared in New York. He was tired, his eyes bloodshot from an almost 24 hours of nothing but work and school, but he had to try and concentrate. He'd taken out so many loans for his education that he couldn't just let it go to waste._

_He sighed as his flipped a couple pages in the heavy textbook. He didn't think that a bachelor's in architecture would be such a heavy course load. As he ran the eraser over each line to keep on track, he silently cursed himself for not going to culinary school instead._

_Cooking and making house plans. Those were the two things he was good at and actually enjoyed doing, but all this reading was going to drive him insane. _

_Once he left his family home, followed Kyle to New York, and landed a job, he founded the joys of actually having food in the cupboards and showed his enthusiasm by cooking. He wouldn't do it while the guys were home though, since he thought it was sort of embarrassing, which is why he didn't enroll in culinary school. He figured Kyle would appreciate something more study-based and not a path that just encouraged him to stand around in a kitchen like a house bitch. It was alright though, since he really did enjoy his classes—he was just sleepy._

_Kenny dropped his head into his book. He was nineteen years old and a freshman in college. He should have been out in the living room playing video games, but instead he was cooped up in his room for the next forever to study for that stupid exam he had tomorrow. He was determined to kick its ass into oblivion and impress Kyle, who was finishing up his bachelor's degree that year. Kenny really had to set the bar high. _

_The sound of blunted slamming brought him out of his studying. He furrowed his brows and held his breath to hear it happen again. It sounded like a headboard against a wall, and that made his stomach churn. He knew that the only one out of the three of them that had a headboard was Kyle since Stan and himself didn't care much for decoratable furnishing items. _

_Kyle was usually really quiet in his room. The only thing you'd ever hear was his weird indie music, and even that was so faint that you couldn't hear anything unless you were silent and listened—which was why Kenny's desk was against the wall that separated his and Kyle's bedroom. It made it much easier to listen along to the music he'd otherwise consider lame. Thankfully, Kyle never caught on to this._

"_Oh God!" _

_Kenny snapped up straight, his eyes wide. Was this seriously happening? Who was in there? Kenny knew that Kyle wasn't seeing anyone at the time and that Kyle wasn't someone for one night stands, so he was stumped. _

_He stood up and went to the other side of his room, placing an ear against the wall. He heard grunts and muffled moans. _

"_That's right... fuckin' take it," _

_A shiver went down his spine. That wasn't Kyle's voice. _

_He hurried out of his room and tip-toed to Kyle's door, where he stood for a few moments. Part of him was saying to drop it and go back to his own room, to just mind his own business, and he might have actually done so if it weren't for Kyle's hushed line of, "Fuck, Stan! Harder!" that made him practically burst a blood vessel._

_Without a second thought, Kenny elbowed the poorly-built locked door open, only to be met with the sight of Stan buried deep inside of Kyle from behind, his fists tugging at the auburn locks while Kyle was bent over the edge of the bed. Kenny's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, his mouth agape. _

_As soon as he had barged in and the two realized what was going on, they jumped away from each other and scrambled to cover themselves up to the best of their ability. Kyle tried to offer a weak excuse of not knowing that Kenny was home, while Stan pleaded for him not to tell Wendy. Kenny only asked how long it'd been going on, to which he was given a sheepish, "Since high school," from Stan. That hurt even more since Kyle had always gone to him whenever he needed a shoulder to cry on, but not once did Kyle mentioned the fact that he and Stan had been sleeping together. Feeling betrayed, Kenny found himself wandering the streets that night, where he'd run into a working girl on the corner. That was the first night of his new life as being known as Kenny, The Guy Who Will Sleep With Anything._

_Before then, he wasn't promiscuous—sure he'd had sex a handful of times, but by no means was he sleeping around. When he found Stan and Kyle together though, he needed something to keep him busy, and sex seemed to do the trick._

_Kenny wanted to be mad at Kyle, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He knew that you couldn't help who you had feelings for and that sometimes you'll do stupid things for the one you love, including degrading yourself down to nothing but an outlet for stress, which is why Kenny never told Wendy about what was going on between her boyfriend and Kyle. He loved Kyle, and he wanted him to be happy. If Stan made him happy, even if just for the few minutes of attention that he'd get at a time from Stan, then so be it. Kenny wouldn't stand in his way, but he did make it a point to often let Kyle know that Stan wasn't worth his time. Kyle would hear none of it._

_As if the cat being let out of the bag wasn't already bad enough, Kenny found Kyle's room occupied almost every other night by none other than Stan. It was as if now that he knew their little secret, it was okay for them to pounce on each other whenever they pleased. Kenny couldn't handle it though, and the stress it put him through showed up in his grades and even at his job, causing him to get fired from a lack of work performance. Finally, twenty-two and jobless, Kenny dropped out a semester short of his bachelor's degree and moved back home to South Park._

That was the downfall of Kenneth McCormick.

Kenny's game of deface-the-poster-with-sunflower-seeds was cut short when he heard someone faintly knocking at his front door. If he hadn't have turned his television off earlier when an infomercial for those miracle fruit juice drinks came on, then he would have definitely missed it.

He looked at the black box below his TV. It was almost three in the morning.

Raising a brow, he sauntered off to see who was on his doorstep, silently praying it wasn't Bebe looking for a quickie. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with her incessant jabbering afterwards, plus he was far too preoccupied with his thoughts at the moment.

The knocking continued, but louder.

"I swear Bebe, if that's you, we're never fucking again. I thought we agreed on calling first," he complained as he swung the door open. It wasn't the curly blonde-haired waitress that he was expecting that stood in front of him though. "Kyle?"

The shorter boy, clad in a brown coat and his signature green ushanka hat, nervously pulled at his fingers. Running his tongue along his teeth, Kenny decided he'd be willing to go through the most heinous of all dental pain for Kyle. "Hi. Um, can I come in?"

Kenny immediately moved over and let Kyle step inside. He wanted to ask what he was doing there so late and if everything was alright, but instead only said, "I was totally just thinking about you."

"I'm sorry I'm here so late. It's just that Stan and Wendy..." Kyle looked around the room for a second as he tried to find the appropriate words. "They've just been all over each other. It's gross."

Kenny wanted to ask him if he knew how it felt now, but he figured that'd be rude. "I thought they were supposed to be on their honeymoon?"

"They put it off until tomorrow, something about wanting to get a few more things in order before leaving for a whole week. I've been able to stay out of the house for the most part with work, but they told me that I wasn't needed tonight, so that left me sitting around awkwardly while Stan and Wendy pawed at each other all over the place. I couldn't take it anymore, so I came here. You said at the wedding that I could come over, so I thought it'd be alright..."

"Of course it's alright. You want something to drink?"

"Dr. Pepper would be nice. I mean, if you have any."

Kenny grinned and nodded before disappearing into the kitchen. He knew his purchases would come in handy.

Kyle stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as he waited for his friend to return. He couldn't recall ever being inside of Kenny's apartment, despite the fact that he and Stan had been back in South Park for a little over three years since graduating from college in New York. Kenny's apartment was minimalistic and somewhat of a mess. Clothes were strewn about, the carpet was stained, and there was no doubt that his furniture was bought from Goodwill since nothing seemed to match and the couch had random tears in the cushion seams. Kyle frowned, not wanting to think about the horrible things that the couch had seen from its previous owner, or even the current one, to earn those tears.

"Charming place, I know." Kenny joked as he came back into the room, holding a can of soda out. Kyle gave a weak laugh and accepted the drink graciously.

"Well at least it's your own place. I should probably get around to finding one of my own soon."

"I thought living with Stan was fine?"

"Until Wendy moved in when we came back to South Park. It's like I'm intruding now, especially since they're married. I can't just live with them while they're _married_. It'll just make things... _weird_."

Kenny nodded understandingly. "I'd offer for you to move in with me, but I've only got one bedroom and I know how you are about having your own space."

"Thanks, but after seeing the state of your apartment, I think I'd have to pass." Kyle quipped as he nodded toward the sunflower seeds that littered the living room floor. Kenny rolled his eyes and gave Kyle's shoulder a light shove. Kyle scrunched up his nose in distaste. "You push like a girl!"

"You practically _are_ a girl. I didn't wanna bruise your delicate skin, sweetheart." Kenny snorted as he gave Kyle another light shove. Kyle huffed and shoved Kenny back, making him stumble a bit. Kenny raised his brows in amazement. "Well look at that! You're a strong girl, aren't you?"

"Shut up!"

Kenny roared with laughter at Kyle's shrill voice, the one where he'd go up a few octaves whenever he was annoyed. "You're so precious!"

"I'll kick your ass!"

Kenny wanted to give another witty remark, but decided against it when he saw Kyle's face turn red from a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "I missed this, man. Hanging out like old times and fucking with each other." He wiped a stray tear from his eye as his laughter died down until only a wry smile was left on his face. "What happened?"

Kyle shrugged and folded his arms over his chest, his eyes falling to the ground. He knew what happened, but he didn't want to talk about it. Kenny had practically covered exactly what had happened in the bathroom at the wedding. "I meant it when I said I was sorry, you know."

"Huh?"

"The other day, when you said that I forgot about you. I really am sorry."

Kenny stood up straight and cleared his throat. "It's no big deal."

"No," Kyle dismissed him, "It _is_ a big deal. I wasn't thinking about how much I was hurting you. I was only thinking about myself, and that's really shitty of me, especially if I'm supposed to be one of your best friends. I was a dick, and you still tried to help me. I'm seriously, _seriously _sorry."

There was a moment of silence between the two before Kenny broke it.

"I just don't understand what I did to be ignored," he admitted quietly. "I mean, I guess I can sort of understand when we were in New York and everything, but when you and Stan came back to South Park and Wendy was in the picture full time? I still never saw you. It's been... it's been three years since we've all been home, and this is the first time we've _really _talked."

Kyle didn't know what to say to that. He didn't realized that his distance had really affected the taller boy so much, so when he saw Kenny's morose expression, the only thing he could say was, "I'm sorry." He wished he could find something better to tell him, but he was at a loss for words. He promised himself that he'd find a way to make it up to Kenny, though. No more putting him on the backburner.

"I forgive you, alright?" Kenny offered, noticing Kyle's slightly panicked expression. He bent down to snatch his pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and patted the box into his palm. "We're cool. Let's just start over."

Kyle nodded, but grimaced at the container of cancer sticks. "You're still smoking?"

"It's a tough habit to break."

"Well I think you should figure out how to do that, because I don't want you getting lung cancer, asshole. I love you too much."

Kenny's stomach almost did a flip at those words and a warm feeling spread throughout his chest. Not only did Kyle show that he cared about him, but he even said those three words that Kenny thought he'd never hear.

"Mhmm," Kenny pretended to wave Kyle's concerns away without a care as he pulled a cigarette out. Kyle yawned. "Sleepy?"

The redhead nodded. "Haven't gotten much sleep the past few days with the extra hours at work and all. This residency is killing me."

"Go to sleep, then. My room's right down the hall."

"You sure there's not someone already in it?" Kyle snickered.

Kenny rolled his eyes and gave him the middle finger. "There's nobody here but you and me. Now that I notice, you look like you're about to drop dead from exhaustion. Go to sleep."

"You're gonna stay up?"

"I'll be in after I smoke this, so try not to take up the whole bed. Last thing I need is you breaking my nose when I have to move you over." Kenny said, recalling the time that he had found Kyle asleep on the couch in college and tried to move him to his bed, when Kyle decked him in the jaw. Kyle was always on the defense—even in his sleep.

Kyle laughed and obliged to Kenny's demands, leaving him alone in the living room. Before he made it all the way down the hall though, he turned.

"Hey, Ken?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

And with that, he disappeared into Kenny's dark bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Kenny smiled and headed for his small balcony, lighting the cigarette up the second he stepped outside.


	3. The Next Morning

"I'm ringing all the warning bells, careful or you'll hurt yourself,

Others lie, lie, lie, they adore you.

I'll be the one to tell you, careful or you'll hurt yourself,

Gonna try, try, try, til the morning."

**Guster** - Careful

* * *

_**'Where r u?'**_

That was the text that woke Kyle up the next morning. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck, looking over to his left to find that the other side of the bed was unoccupied. He checked the time on his cell phone: 11:02am.

He bit his lip in thought as he read the text message from Stan once more, contemplating whether or not he should even reply. In the end, he did.

_**'Stayed at Kenny's. Thought I'd give the two of you some alone time.'**_

On the other side of the apartment, Kenny was shuffling around the kitchen in a pair of his loose-fitted jeans as he put breakfast together. He hadn't slept at all last night, spending most of his time rotating between smoking on the balcony and putting together some model houses that were currently pushed off to the side of small kitchen table.

After finishing his cigarette, he had joined Kyle in his bedroom for some much needed snoozing, but couldn't seem to fall asleep. His mind was on overdrive and the only thing he could think about was how close he was to Kyle, how badly he wanted to reach out and hold him, to run his hand through those loose curls and whisper in his ear, so he appeased his appetite by brushing some of Kyle's hair away from his face and left the room before he could do something he might regret.

"What smells so good?"

The sound of a chair being pulled across the laminate floor echoed throughout the room as Kenny turned to look at his guest. He smiled when he saw the sleepy-eyed boy. "You'll see. I'm almost finished."

Kyle's eyes wandered from his shirtless friend who was in the midst of chopping strawberries to the mess that sat adjacent to him. Glue, acrylic paints, balsa wood pieces of assorted sizes and half-completed miniature buildings littered the table. He remembered that Kenny used to make those back in New York.

"So did you ever end up going back to school?" Kyle asked, assuming that Kenny had a viable reason for the model homes. He figured that Kenny might have finished up that last semester and landed a job at an architectural firm where he came up with floorplans and drew up blueprints like he had talked about wanting to do.

The blonde went rigid for a moment and shook his head. "Nah."

"Why not?"

"I dunno. I don't really see the point."

"How could you not see the point? You worked so hard to get that degree, and you're so close to having it! Look at these," Kyle motioned to the miniature structures. "These are _amazing_. You're just going to throw it all away?"

Kenny didn't even think before he turned around, grabbed as much of his work as he could, and dumped it into the trashcan next to the counter. Kyle was about to shout at him in protest, but Kenny beat him to it with, "They're just stupid houses. Nothing important."

"That's not true."

"Can we talk about something else?" Kenny asked exasperatedly as he pulled out a container of orange juice from the fridge. "Like, how's the residency going?"

Unamused by the forced change of topic, Kyle gave a shrug. "It's alright. I'm a little into the second year, now. I think I've got one more year after that, and then I'll finally be licensed."

"That's it? I thought you'd be stuck doing that shit for way longer than three years."

"You're probably thinking about surgeons. I'm just doing internal medicine, with a specialization in endocrinology."

"Well excuse the hell out of me, Dr. Broflovski," Kenny snorted as he placed a glass of orange juice and a plateful of pancakes topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream in front of Kyle. "Here. Eat."

Kyle stared at the mouth watering dish in front of him. "What's this?"

"It's your favorite, that's what." Kenny answered matter-of-factly. "Oh, almost forgot," He snatched a bottle of 100% authentic maple syrup from the cupboard and set it next to the Jew, who'd begun to dig in while his back was turned. Kenny's eyes lit up at the sight. "You like?"

"Mhmm," Kyle mumbled with a mouthful of pancakes as he grabbed greedily at the syrup. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until then. "Jesus Christ, Kenny. These are delicious! Best strawberry pancakes I've ever had."

"I'm glad to hear that," Kenny chimed with a smile. "You should come over more often and I'll cook for you. Maybe tonight, for dinner? Some guys will be here for poker before that, but you're more than welcome to join us."

Kyle's phone vibrated, causing him to tear his attention from the half-eaten stack. He fished the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.

_**'I miss u. Come here before i leave for FL.'**_

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, he swallowed the bite he was currently chewing with an audible gulp. Kenny watched him with curious eyes. "Everything alright?"

_**'For what?'**_

"Huh?" Kyle snapped his gaze up at Kenny. "Yeah, it's just the hospital. They... um, were asking if I was busy and if I could come in for a while."

"Ohhh," Kenny nodded and took a seat across from Kyle. He knew that Kyle was hiding something, but decided to play dumb for the time being. Besides, why wouldn't the hospital call instead of text him? "So do you wanna come over for dinner?"

_**'Just come see me, k?'**_

"I have to go," Kyle stood abruptly from the table, tugging his hat over his head while pushing a few stray curls beneath it. "Thanks for breakfast, Ken. I'll try to stop by tonight for dinner, okay?"

Kenny frowned and got up as well, maneuvering to wedge himself between the shorter boy and the doorway. He reached up and pulled Kyle's green ushanka from his head, holding it out of reach while Kyle tried to grab it with one hand and cover his extra messy hair with the other at the same time.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Why are you always hiding your hair? I know you're self conscious about it and everything, but you really shouldn't be."

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"Then there's no reason to wear this since it's not cold outside."

Kyle sighed. "Seriously, give it back. My hair is a mess right now and this isn't funny."

"You're right, it's definitely a mess," Kenny grinned as he handed the hat back to Kyle, who went to put it on again but had his hand slapped down. Kyle pouted at the annoyance that was Kenny. "But it's adorable. Your hair just adds to your uniqueness, and I've always loved it."

Before Kyle could even think to defend his reasons for hating his hair, Kenny's fingers were tangling themselves in the auburn mess. Kyle's face grew red from embarrassment as he stood there motionless with his eyes shut tight. He wanted to swat Kenny away from him but he was unintentionally enjoying the attention and slight massage that Kenny was providing from ruffling his hair. It was nice to not be laughed at for once. The taller boy pulled his hand back sooner than Kyle was hoping for and the redhead opened his eyes to be met with a knowing smirk.

"Admit it. You liked that."

"I'm not letting you expose a weakness of mine."

"And all this time I thought you weren't capable of having weaknesses."

His phone vibrated.

_**'U coming or what?'**_

"I'll see you later," Kyle groaned as he turned on his heel. Kenny frowned and followed him through the apartment as he made haste for the door, running through every possible line he could use that wouldn't piss Kyle off as well as keep him from leaving. He knew exactly where Kyle was heading, and he didn't want him to go there. "I won't forget about—"

"Don't go back to him. He's not worth it," Kenny grabbed at Kyle's coat sleeve as his hand gripped the door knob. "How many times do I have to say that until you believe it? I can't just sit here and let you do this to yourself, man. This isn't going to get you anything but hurt."

Kyle turned around. Tears were threatening to fall, but he kept his gaze upwards until he felt safe from the possibility of crying. He knew that this was ridiculous, chasing after a man—a _married_ man—who wanted nothing to do with him in the way that Kyle wanted him. He couldn't help it, though. He was hopelessly in love with Stan. "I know."

"You need to get over him."

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

"How!" Kyle practically screamed, his hands balling themselves into fists at his sides. "It's not as easy as it sounds, Kenny! You can't just fall _out_ of love with someone, that's not how it works! I know you've never been in love before so you probably don't understand where I'm coming from, but it's... it's one of the worst pains in the world, being in love with someone and knowing there's nothing you can do that will make them love you back."

Kenny winced at those words. Unfortunately, he understood far too well how it felt since he'd been dealing with said pain for almost a decade now. The only difference between the two of them was that Kenny had come to terms with the reality of it all much faster than Kyle, who was still in denial. Kenny knew there was little to no hope for him when it came to winning Kyle's affection, and he was set on living the rest of his life pining after him in secret. Even though he'd never have Kyle, he hated to see him so unhappy, which is what got Kenny to thinking:

"I can help you get over Stan."

"What?"

"Let me help," Kenny found himself speaking before he could even fully comprehend what crazy plan his mind was concocting. "I'll be like, a rebound for you. Use me to help forget about Stan. They say if you want to fix a broken heart that the best thing to do is stay busy and keep your mind off of things." Kenny emphasized by bouncing his hands up and down with his words. "You can keep busy with work and stuff, but what about afterwards? I can help you keep your mind off of Stan, and you can stay with me here."

"I don't think I—"

"Think of me as a boyfriend!"

Kyle blinked and scrunched his face up in distaste. "I don't want a boyfriend. Besides, it'd be weird if it were you."

Kenny frowned, but wiped the morose expression from his face almost immediately. He didn't want to show how much that had hurt. "I said _think_ of me as one; I wouldn't really be your boyfriend! You'd just get all the same treatment and attention from me that you would normally get as if I were. Got it?"

"Treatment and attention from _you_? I don't want to be practically raped all the time!"

"Oh shut up, I wouldn't do that to you and you know it!"

"I don't know..."

"This can really help you with getting over Stan!"

Kyle looked around the room, stopping to focus on Kenny once he was finished scanning over everything. He was considering the offer of living with Kenny and going through with this plan of his, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea. There were so many things to consider, mostly the fact that using Kenny as a rebound would not only be awkward, but also could backfire horribly. He didn't want to ruin his friendship with Kenny, but perhaps it wouldn't—Kenny had always been the most affectionate of his friends growing up, and there was the whole Kenny having little to no emotional attachment with his sexual partners. That wasn't much fun to think about for Kyle, but it did prove that Kenny could possibly be the best person for this.

He opened his mouth to give an answer to the waiting blonde but his phone vibrated, signaling that he'd received a text.

_**'Please kyle? I miss u.'**_

Kyle felt his stomach flip.

"I-I've seriously got to go, but t-thanks for the offer," Kyle stammered while he punched out a quick message in return to Stan. Before Kenny could reach out for him again, Kyle had flung the door open and was halfway down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time when he came to them.

Kenny watched until Kyle disappeared from sight, letting out a loud sigh as he slammed his head against the wall. This seemed way too familiar to the wedding when Kyle had ditched him while he was inside looking for a soda.

"I hate everything."

* * *

The house that he shared with the newlyweds was on the other side of town and easily averaged a thirteen minute drive or almost an hour and a half walk. He was pounding the pavement though, managing to get home as fast as he could in a little under the sixty minute mark. The high school track team had proven to be a worthy investment of his time.

Kyle keeled over, his hands on his knees as he inhaled and exhaled short but deep breaths of fresh air when he came to the front porch. He silently cursed himself for leaving his car in the driveway the past night.

Stan's car was parked next to it.

_He's still here._

Feeling rested enough after a couple of minutes, Kyle bound up the stairs and into the house. It was oddly quiet, and he began to second guess his assumptions. Perhaps Stan and Wendy had taken a taxi to the airport instead? That wouldn't make sense though, since the front door had been unlocked.

He decided to check the second floor after looking in the kitchen and living room, only to find that they were desolate. As he scurried down the hall to check and see if they were in their bedroom, his attention was snagged when he heard the sound of papers rustling in the small spare room that Stan used as his office.

"Stan?" Kenny pushed on the slightly-opened door and poked his head inside, where he found the man he'd been looking for. Stan's eyes lifted from a stack of manila folders that were sprawled out on a dark wooden desk and met Kyle's as the redhead let himself in. Stan's lips curved upwards. "Hey, I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here. I didn't think to take my car last night."

The dark-haired boy gave his head a shake as he closed the distance between himself and his intruder. The dimples in his cheeks were unmistakable from that huge smile he was sporting. Kyle felt his heart flutter at the fact that those dimples were there because of him. "It's alright, I was a little worried that I wasn't going to get to see you before I left, though!" Stan exclaimed as he brushed a finger along Kyle's cheek. "I wouldn't be able to think if I didn't get to say goodbye."

"Where's Wendy?" Kyle asked, suddenly feeling nervous from Stan's touch. "When are you guys leaving?"

"She's in the basement taking care of some last minute laundry. I think she's just folding stuff, and we're leaving once she's finished, so you came just in time for one last goodbye. Everything is packed and ready to go," He gave a sideways nod to a black suitcase that was zipped up and laid flat on a small armchair.

Kyle gulped, noticing the seduction laced between Stan's words. He would be lying if he said he didn't know that Stan wouldn't have texted him out of the blue just to say goodbye with no strings attached. "One last goodbye?"

Stan's eyes grew dangerous as he inched closer and grabbed the collar of Kyle's shirt, jerking him forward, causing the redhead to stumble along as he dragged him back towards his desk. Stan rested against the edge of it. "C'mon, I've been thinking about you since I woke up this morning," He licked his lips and eyed the smaller boy up and down. "That mouth doesn't have to go to waste."

"I thought—"

"You think too much."

"But you told me that you didn't—"

"Shhh," Stan had lost interest in Kyle's shirt collar and instead began to undo the zipper to his pants. "I know what I said, but I've been thinking a lot about it, and... it doesn't have to be that way. We can still do this, alright?" He dropped his jeans to his thighs and guided Kyle's shaking hand to dip into his boxers, wrapping the boy's hand around his warm member. Stan closed his eyes for a second and let out a content sigh at the contact. "Feel how hard I am? That's all because of you. You turn me on _so much_."

Kyle's breath hitched in his throat. Part of him wanted to pull his hand back and run. He knew this was wrong—Stan was married! But then there was this other part of him that wanted nothing more than to indulge in the moment and give Stan what he was asking for, as if there was a sliver of hope that Stan might be feeling this way because he was finally realizing how much more he cared for Kyle than for Wendy.

The latter reason is what would cause Kyle to get down on his knees in front of Stan, pull his boxers down and grip his fully erect manhood that seemed to taunt him. If even a part of Kyle's grand ideality of there being some sort of happily ever after coming out of this was possible, he was more than willing to take whatever Stan dished out.

He began to stroke Stan slowly, still unsure whether this was a good idea or not since they weren't exactly alone and could be walked in on at any given moment. Stan tangled his fingers into Kyle's curls, knocking his hat off, and pulled to make the redhead look up at him. He donned a slightly sadistic grin as he bore holes into Kyle's forest green eyes with own his dark and lust-filled blues. It sent an uneasy shiver down Kyle's spine. He hated it when Stan got that look; it made him feel like a piece of meat. For a second, Kyle tried to recall if Stan had ever looked at him in a different way when they were committing these secretive acts. His heart sunk when he realized that he had not.

Kyle wanted to ask if he thought it was a good idea to be doing this while Wendy was somewhere in the house, but the second he went to say something, Stan had leaned forward and shoved his dick into Kyle's mouth, shutting him up instantly and making the smaller boy's eyes widen in shock. Stan's grip on the red locks tightened as he threw his head back with a throaty groan of, "Mmm... feels like it's been forever."

Blinking away the few tears that had welled up in his eyes, Kyle pulled away from Stan and gasped for air. Some sort of warning from the raven-haired boy would have been nice, after all. He had little time to completely process the situation at hand before Stan was pressing the tip of his cock to Kyle's lips expectantly. The Jew didn't even argue and resumed his duty. He didn't want to keep Stan waiting since he knew he hated that.

He bobbed his head up and down, attempting to take as much as he could into his mouth without choking or gagging while Stan's free hand was clutching the edge of the desk for stability, his knuckles white. His brows were knitted together and his lips parted slightly as quiet moans escaped him. As much as Kyle hated giving blowjobs, he couldn't deny loving the feeling of being wanted or appreciated for making Stan feel so good. Stan's moans of pleasure caused a warm feeling to spread throughout Kyle's stomach, making his own member grow slightly.

"You like that, huh?"

This was one of the reasons why Kyle hated doing this—Stan's ego grew about ten time it's normal size, and Kyle wasn't one for being degraded or talked down to. For the sake of Stan's affection though, he complied.

"Mhmm," Kyle hummed as a lie to appease the man towering over him.

"Fuck," Stan growled. "Daddy's little cockslut. That's what you are."

Kyle didn't know whether to gag on Stan's dick or the fact that Stan had just seriously referred to himself as _Daddy_. It wasn't like he had much of a choice to think it over before Stan had two fistfulls of Kyle's hair to roughly hold him in place as he began his assault on the redhead's lips, taking the liberty in pumping himself in and out of Kyle's wet mouth.

Each thrust had Kyle's nose buried in his trimmed pubes while he did his best to not choke as the back of his throat was being stabbed over and over. Stan must have enjoyed the sloppy sounds emitting from his best friend since he'd only gotten noisier and kept trying to buck his hips harder and harder into Kyle's mouth.

"That's right. Take it all," Stan commanded. "Oh God, s-so close... shit, I'm gonna cum—You want it, don't you? Tell me you want it, Kyle."

"Mhmm," Kyle wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to tell him that when his mouth was sort of full at the moment.

Stan cursed under his breath as the vibrations shook their way down his shaft, pushing him over the edge. Throwing his head back in ecstasy, he pushed himself as far down Kyle's throat as he possibly could, forcing him to swallow his seed as he came. When he finally pulled back, Kyle's eyes were burning as he coughed from the lack of air, his face bright red. There was a small string of semen hanging from his lips which he accidentally tasted when he ran his tongue over them. He cringed—he hated the taste of cum.

When he had wiped his eyes clear, he saw Stan tucking himself back into his jeans with a cheerful smile radiating from his lips. Kyle couldn't help but smile back as he stood up, not even irritated about the fact that he had to swallow and that he was totally neglected of his own needs, though he was only semi hard.

He thought that Stan was about to embrace him in a hug as he stepped forward, but was disappointed when his green hat was tugged over his head instead. "Your hair's a mess," Stan laughed. His lips fell into a straight line. He didn't find anything about that humorous at all. "Damn, that felt awesome. Thanks."

"_Thanks?_" Kyle asked incredulously as Stan turned to the manila folders that he'd been messing with earlier. "I give you head, and all you can say is _thanks?_"

Stan furrowed his brows in confusion. "What, was there something else I'm supposed to say?"

Kyle thought about that for a moment. _Was_ Stan supposed to say something different? He had definitely hoped that Stan would maybe say something a little more intimate—perhaps confess his undying love, or at least tell him that his eyes were nice or whatever, but not _thanks,_ as if getting a blowjob was something as casual as borrowing a pencil. Then again, it was casual... to the two of them, at least. Kyle had just romanticized the situation when he should have known better.

"I guess not."

"Stan, I'm ready to leave!" Wendy's voice rang out through the house. Stan dropped the folders and scurried over to his suitcase and made sure that each compartment was zipped up before hoisting it off the chair and dropping it to the floor.

"Well, looks like this is goodbye until next time," Stan said with a laugh as he gave his friend's arm a light punch. "I probably won't be able to call or text since I'll be, you know, _busy_—but I'll be back soon, so don't go running off now! I'll see you later, dude."

And with that, he hustled out of the room to group up with his wife downstairs, leaving Kyle to stand awkwardly in the middle of his home office. Kyle didn't move until he heard the front door slam shut; he stood there, mentally cursing himself for being such a fucking idiot.

He wasted no time in going to the bathroom and brushed his teeth vigorously, trying to scrub the taste of Stan out of his mouth to the best of his ability; he even swished with mouthwash for good measure.

_That asshole didn't even kiss me._

Kenny was right—he _knew_ Kenny had been right since the beginning, but he was too stubborn to listen. Now, as he packed his own suitcase full of clothes and some of his much needed belongings, he wished he'd of done just that.


	4. Damien's Three Wishes

"All I want is to feel this way,

To be this close, to feel the same."

**Toad The Wet Sprocket** - All I Want

* * *

"You've _got_ to be fucking kidding me."

Kenny groaned as he was graced with the far too familiar surroundings. Pillars of flames shot out from the ground, bones littered the cavern walls, and screams of mercy bled throughout the dark sky above.

He was in Hell.

"What could I have possibly died from this time!"

"Heart attack," said Damien nonchalantly. "So why wasn't I invited to play poker?"

"You did that on purpose, fucker," Kenny seethed while folding his arms across his chest. "And I _did _invite you! I told you last week to come join us whenever you saw that we were playing. I mean, since you can apparently see everything or whatever. It's not exactly like there's a number I can use to get ahold of your demonic ass."

Damien chuckled and tossed the clipboard he was holding aside. "Fine, I guess I can't hold it against you. I'll prepare the portal for you to return back to the world above." He turned to leave but Kenny grabbed his shoulder.

"I'm glad that's settled, but this is seriously getting ridiculous, man. This is the eighth time this month that I've died and I'm about sick of having to constantly deal with this!" Kenny shouted heatedly. "Isn't there anything that can be done, like maybe some genie shit where I get three wishes or something?"

Damien rolled his eyes and shoved Kenny's hand away. "I can tell you Craig's hand if you'd like, but that's about it." He began down a shadowy hallway filled with spiderwebs and blood dripping from down from the crevices in the walls. Kenny followed close behind. "He's one card from a royal flush, so watch out."

"Come on!" Kenny whined. "I deserve _something_! Who's the guy who helped set you up with Pip, huh? Oh, and I was the one who put together that surprise party for your birthday last year!"

"It's hardly a surprise when one can see all that goes on."

"Dude, it's the thought that counts!"

When they came to the end of the hall, Damien gave a rusted lever a pull, making the metal gates standing in their way lift up. He mulled over Kenny's pleas for a moment. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Three wishes, but they must be energy-reliable. That means no worldly possessions. I'm not a real genie, I'm the son of Satan. Genies don't even exist."

"Fucking finally!" Kenny punched the air with excitement. Damien watched on unamused. "Okay, first things first: I've got one life and one life only. If I die, then I'm dead. Got it?"

Damien nodded, though he was confused. "I'll have to speak with my father about that one since he's the only one who talks to God, but it can be done. Do you really think that's a good idea, though? You've got quite the penchant for dying."

"That leads into the second wish. No more of this all of a sudden dying bullshit! No getting randomly hit by trains, or being crushed from a faulty jet engine out of the blue, blah blah blah. Just like, make it hard for me to die... like a normal person! But a little bit harder, since I seem to have the worst luck in the world for some reason."

"Hmm. That I can definitely do. Your last wish?"

Kenny grinded his teeth in thought. He didn't exactly have an idea for a third wish in mind since he'd been so pissed off about ending up in Hell during a perfectly good poker game. He kicked at the dirt covered ground. "I dunno... what else can I have that has to do with energy? I don't really know how that works. Got any suggestions?"

"Well there's always Kyle."

"What about Kyle?"

Damien's lips turned up into a devilish smirk. "You've cared about him for so long," He fired up the obsidian portal in the center of the stone dungeon-like room that would send Kenny back to live his life. "Wouldn't it be nice if he suddenly... returned the feelings?"

"You can do that sort of thing?"

"I can do a lot of things. Make him fall in love with you, make him hate you, make _Stan _fall in love with _him_, have Stan suddenly die from some sort of deadly disease, et cetera et cetera."

Kenny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't expecting for Damien to offer such things, and as much as he wanted for Kyle to love him back, he didn't want it to be forced. He wanted Kyle to love him because he wanted to and wasn't under some sort of weird underworld spell. Kenny quickly marked out any and all options that involved causing Kyle to do something without his consent.

Besides that, he was entertaining the other ideas proposed to him that involved Stan. Getting the raven-haired man out of the picture permanently could really help Kenny's cause, but then again it could go against it, too. If Stan suddenly dropped dead, then there was no doubt that Kyle would be in hysterics. He didn't want to hurt Kyle, so that option went out the window. The possibility of Stan falling for Kyle followed suit without any consideration. Kenny may have wanted Kyle to have everything he ever wanted, but he wasn't going to fuel his desire for Stan.

He was about to tell Damien to forget about a third wish and just send him back up until he was struck with the most perfect idea of all.

"I want Stan to know what he's missing," Kenny stated slowly, as if he were unsure this was what he wanted. "I want him to always have this little voice in the back of his head nagging him for giving Kyle up. Not like a real voice or anything, but his conscious." He paused and chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second. "And he'll never be able to completely figure out what it is. He'll just always have this feeling of emptiness that can't seem to be filled."

Damien rubbed at his chin in thought. "Consider it done. Now go before Craig takes a look at your cards."

Kenny smiled and bid his longtime friend farewell before stepping into the portal. He was happy with himself and the last wish he'd chosen, but the small compassionate part of his being was telling him he'd done a horrible thing. Good thing the lax part of him was far too great to care.

"Took you long enough," Craig sneered as the blonde emerged from his bedroom, taking his place back in the seat which he'd just passed away in not more than twenty minutes prior. Kenny scoffed and lifted his hand of cards, making sure that they were untouched.

"Yeah, well that shouldn't be happening again. Not for a long time, anyways."

"Whatever that means."

"Where's Ike and Clyde?"

"They went to pick up some takeout from that Chinese place down the street a few minutes ago. Shouldn't take too long since they called the order in ahead of time."

Kenny nodded and went to pick up a card when there was a knock at the door. He and Craig exchanged glances for a second before he went to answer it. Kenny was half-expecting for it to be the missing friends on the other side, but that wasn't the case.

"You're back," Kenny said unsurely while letting the redhead come inside. He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall above the table where he and his friends were playing poker. It was only 2:42pm; much earlier than he had expected for Kyle to be there, if he was even going to show up at all. "I didn't think you would be."

"Well, I sort of had some time to think," Kyle motioned to the suitcase that was dragging behind him. Kenny's knitted brows lifted in interest as he put two and two together. He looked over his shoulder and gave Craig a look of urgency, who was watching the two friends stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. Craig must have gotten the hint because it didn't take long for him to scrape his belongings up and scramble towards the door.

"Dude, haven't seen you in a while," Craig said hurriedly to the redhead as he slipped into his jacket. He knew that Kenny would want some alone time with Kyle since he'd known all about his unrequited feelings for the Jew; with him being one of the only two _really _good friends that Kenny had, it apparently meant that he had a duty to listen whenever Kenny needed to vent. Thankfully, Bebe was more than happy to hear him out during these times. Craig was thankful for that. "I've got to get going. Besides, you two probably need to talk."

"What about the game?" Kenny asked, attempting to cover up the fact that he did indeed want Craig out of there asap. He didn't want Kyle to know that, though.

Craig laughed. "Dude, screw the game. I've got Tweek at home waiting for me, and lord knows he needs some love tonight. Been holdin' out on him almost the whole week just to see him squirm, and it's time to reap the benefits."

Kyle scrunched up his face in disgust. "I really didn't need to know that."

"I'll tell the guys that the game's off 'til next week. See you both later," Craig gave a small wave before disappearing out of the apartment.

There was a few seconds of awkward quietness between the two of them until Kenny reached out and took Kyle's suitcase from him, lifting it up and giving it a shake. It was heavy, and a smile spread over Kenny's lips.

"I knew you couldn't resist."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Trust me, that's not the case."

"Really? Because it seems like a case... a suitcase, to be quite honest."

"Kenny—"

"Is Stan gone?"

Silence.

"Yes."

Kenny nodded and took the suitcase, dragging it to his bedroom. Kyle trailed behind him as he dropped the heavy luggage onto the bed and unzipped it. Clothes, books, and a Mac laptop spilled out onto the blanket. Kenny frowned as he waded through the thick tomes.

"You were right about getting over Stan, and I-I really want to. It's just, I don't know where to start, you know? But I thought about what you said, and... it's sort of a strange idea to me still, but it makes sense, and there's really nobody else I'd feel comfortable doing this with but you." Kyle explained gently as he watched Kenny molest his belongings. "I mean, if you'll still help me. It's up to you; I know letting me live with you is a pretty big thing alone, so if you've changed your mind then I'd totally understand."

The blonde's frown was still evident. "I don't have a bookshelf."

Kyle's brows knitted together. "What?"

"Your books—I don't have a shelf," Kenny's eyes darted around his dark bedroom as he urgently searched for something that would act as a shelf until he had the time to stop at the store and pick a cheap one up. His room was small, the bed taking up most of the space while two dressers lined walls, one in front of the bed and another to the left of it, keeping a rarely used television on top of the one facing the bed. He cursed under his breath when he realized, "Shit. I don't have a desk, either."

"That's alright, I can keep them in a crate or a box." Kenny wasn't even paying attention as he left the bedroom, leaving a confused Kyle alone for a few minutes as the sound of plastic and cords rustled in the background. He returned shortly with a small black wire-frame shelf. Kyle's eyes grew wide. "What about your games!"

"The Xbox will be fine on the ground."

"Kenny, _no_. I am _not_ taking your gaming shelf from you," Kyle scolded him like an upset mother. "Now go put it back!"

Kenny scoffed and shoved the lightweight shelf aside. "It'd probably break under all those damn books, anyway. I'll deal with them tomorrow, but we at least need to find a place for your clothes," He went straight for the dresser that was to the left of the bed and began emptying the drawers onto the floor. Clothes that didn't seem as if they'd be part of Kenny's wardrobe littered the carpet; thongs, underwear of the female variety, bras, and other clothes that looked to be a few sizes too small.

Kyle grimaced at the mess. "What's with all of that!"

"That's not important," Kenny mumbled as he kicked the pile of clothes to a corner and began opening the drawers to the other dresser, this time shuffling clothes around and actually making room instead of just throwing everything to the ground. When he felt he had enough space, he started to unpack the clothes from Kyle's suitcase and put them in their respective drawers. Kyle continued to be confused and shocked.

"I don't understand—You just emptied _that _dresser, so why are you putting all of my clothes in _this _one?"

Kenny stopped and turned to Kyle. "How can I help you get over Stan if our clothes aren't at least in the same drawer?" He explained as if this was supposed to be obvious. "I know I told you that I'm not going to be your boyfriend, but I'm going to treat you like I am. It's the only way this will work. Besides, this dresser is just getting in the way. It's got to go."

"So," Kyle nodded sheepishly. He _did _have a point. "You're really okay with all of this?"

Kenny smiled. "Of course I am."

"Well um," Kyle swallowed nervously, "How is this supposed to work and everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you know... kissing, being around each other a lot, and—you know, _doing it_..."

Sensing the redhead's timidness over the whole situation, Kenny stepped forward and took his friend into his arms. He wasn't even sure himself how this was supposed to all play out, but he had a slight idea on what to do. "Take it slow, alright?" He murmured into Kyle's hair. "No rushing, and treat it as if it's a real relationship even though it's not... and if there's ever something that you're not comfortable with or don't want to do, we don't have to do it."

Kyle felt himself calm down with the help of Kenny's soothing voice and his hand rubbing circles into his upper back like he'd done at the wedding. He liked this—Stan never held him at all or spoke so softly like this. Kyle figured that this could really be good for him. "I know how you are with sex and everything though, and well, what if I don't—"

"Then don't."

"What about you?"

Kyle felt the vibrations of the taller boy's chuckles through his chest. "There's nothing to worry about. I'm going to take care of _you_, okay? You need to quit worrying about everyone else for once." Kyle nodded, feeling slightly more so at ease even though that didn't exactly answer the question he wanted to ask. He was interested in knowing whether Kenny would still be sleeping with other people, but the blonde didn't seem to catch on to the meaning of his words. Kyle didn't like the idea of Kenny seeing others while helping him get over his feelings for Stan—he might not admit it out loud, but he was sort of excited to get to experience what it'd be like to have someone's undivided attention for the first time in his life. He knew he couldn't expect that of Kenny, though.

Lost in his thoughts, Kyle didn't notice when Kenny had lifted his chin to meet his bright blue eyes; they were so much different than Stan's, who had uninterested dark pools of indigo whilst Kenny's were a mix of light blue and gray and could convey a million emotions with one glance. It was easy to understand how girls (and even some men) melted with a single look from the playboy. They didn't have this effect on Kyle, though; he found them to be calming and comforting, putting him in a sort of tranquil state.

Without another second to spare, Kenny dipped his head to catch Kyle's lips with a gentle and chaste kiss. Kyle was thrust from his spot of tranquility and brought back to the real world, finding that it was a much better place as he unintentionally returned the kiss. It was unexpected and felt _real_, as if there was some driving force behind it on Kenny's end—he couldn't deny that.

Too soon did Kenny pull away, leaving Kyle with his lips parted slightly and half-lidded eyes. Tranquility set in once more as Kenny's eyes were on his own, a warm smile complementing them. Kyle's cheeks filled with a rosy tint. Stan never kissed him like that.

"Well, looks like we're off to a nice start."


	5. Tetanus Shots

"Cause everybody needs someone that they can trust,

And you're somebody that I found just in time.

If you want me to wait, I will wait for you,

If you tell me to stay, I will stay right through,

If you don't wanna say anything at all, I'm happy wondering."

**Good Charlotte** - Wondering

* * *

For some reason, it never dawned upon Kyle to ask where it was that Kenny worked. Even after sharing an apartment with him for the past few days, not once did he wonder where Kenny was going when he left the apartment each morning wearing nothing different from his usual outfit of worn out boots, jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and that signature orange parka of his. Kenny was always home before he was, usually in the kitchen or watching something on TV, so he didn't think to pay any thought about what he'd been doing that past eight or nine hours. He was safe and in one piece under the roof that they shared, and that was good enough for Kyle.

However, when he found the blonde leaning over the hospital reception desk with his left leg bent slightly at the knee, informing the nurse on the other side that it was a work related injury, he was definitely curious about his current employer.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle shrieked as he rushed over to his friend. He could see something shiny embedded into Kenny's pant leg with blood pooling around the filth-covered fabric. He snatched the patient sign-in clipboard from Kenny's hand and tossed it onto the desk, grabbing his forearm and dragging him down the hall. Kenny yelped in a mixture of both pain and surprise as he was manhandled and taken into an empty room with a bed and the normal hospital furniture and trimmings. Kyle let go and with a hasty breath asked, "What the hell happened!"

"It's nice to see you too, _sweetheart_," Kenny seethed through his clenched teeth as he perched himself on the edge of the bed, cupping the damaged area around his leg gingerly. Kyle realized that he must of hurt him and sheepishly rubbed behind his ear. "I didn't know you were working right now."

"What happened?" Kyle repeated.

Kenny shrugged as he ran his fingers over the metallic object. He winced. "Mike was fucking around with the nail gun and got me in the leg. I told him not to screw around, but nobody listens to me. I tried to pull it out but the boss told me to come here since it was only down the street and he didn't need me getting tetanus or something, so I hopped on over and voila, here I am."

Kyle blankly stared at the blonde as he processed everything through his mind. It took him a second for it all to make sense; the filthy jeans, the layer of grime that Kenny was trapped under, the talk about a nail gun—even the orange reflective vest that Kenny had on over his wrinkled and dirty white t-shirt finally had some significance.

"You're a construction worker." Kyle said more to himself than to the man in front of him. It didn't phase him at all, as he felt that he should have known Kenny would be someone to do labor work, especially construction, seeing as it had to do with buildings and architecture.

Kenny lifted a brow and smirked. "I'm a _man_."

"I'm a man too," Kyle defended himself. He was sick of always being picked on for being girlier than the rest of the guys since he was a little kid. "Not all men like to dig holes and hit things with hammers, you know."

"No, but men are usually able to grow beards."

"I can grow facial hair!" Kyle squawked. "Maybe not like, a _full beard_ or whatever, but I can definitely grow facial hair!"

Kenny chuckled. "I've never seen you shave before."

"It doesn't... it doesn't grow in that fast, so I only have to shave once in a while," Kyle explained as he leaned over to Kenny, jutting his jaw out. "Go ahead and feel, though! It's kind of prickly since I haven't shaved in a little over two weeks. Feel it!"

Kenny reached out and ran the back of his fingers along Kyle's cheek and jawline. He tried to bite back a warm and content smile at the contact, but couldn't. Instead, he hid it well as a smug grin and pulled back.

"Your skin is as soft as a baby's ass."

Kyle's face grew heated and red. "So what if I can't really grow facial hair, it's better than having to shave every day like some sort of beastly animal!" He pointed to Kenny's own face, where a five o'clock shadow was pushing its way to the surface. "I'd hate to be you—you have to shave _every single day! _That's like, a whole month spent out of your entire life shaving when you could be doing something better!"

Kenny was trying _so_ hard not to break out into a laughing fit. Kyle was playing right into his little plan. There was nothing quite hilarious and equally adorable as Kyle Broflovski when he was upset.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure shaving your legs would take up a month too, so what does it matter?"

"I'm not a fucking girl, so stop screwing with me!"

"Probably don't even gotta do that since you're pretty much hairless."

"Kenny, I'm fucking serious!"

"You gonna fix me up or are you just going to PMS all over the place?" Kenny teased, leaning back on his elbows and nodding towards his wounded leg. Kyle grumbled and let his shoulders fall from their tense position, stalking over to the counter and shuffling around the drawers and cupboards.

"I should just let you bleed to death."

"I'd be sitting here forever if that were the case. Plenty of time for me to come up with a few more lines, babygirl."

He let that last playful insult roll off his back as he collected a few necessities and went over to Kenny. Scissors, alcohol pads, gauze, tape, and a pair of small medical pliers tumbled out of his hands and onto the bed as he examined the wound.

"It's pretty deep."

"That's what she said."

Kyle scoffed and ran over the procedure in his head as he toyed with the pliers; he'd have to cut through Kenny's jeans and clear the area around the nail, then clean it, pull it out, stop the bleeding, and—

"FUCK!"

"That's what you get for calling me a girl," Kyle grinned smugly as he dropped the pliers and tossed the bloodied nail into the hazardous waste basket. He rolled up Kenny's pant leg and cleaned the wound, bandaging it up once he was finished. "Asshole."

"I'm pretty sure you skipped a few steps," Kenny mumbled bitterly while jerking his leg away once Kyle was finished.

"That's what she said."

"I don't think you used that right," Kenny smirked as his swung his legs over the bed and stood up, wobbling a bit before reaching out and grabbing hold of a nearby chair. He didn't think a nail in the leg would hurt so bad. "Thanks for patching me up there, Dr. Broflovski. How much do I owe ya?"

"You don't owe me anything, except maybe another stack of strawberry pancakes. I think that'd be fair enough since I just saved your life."

Kenny smiled and tilted his head to the side a bit. "How about tonight?" He looked at the clock on the wall behind the redhead. "I got off work about twenty minutes ago. What about you?"

"I can take off a few hours early, it's not like there's a shortage in medical personnel tonight anyways," Kyle reached out his arm and wrapped it around the taller boy's waist, attempting to help him take some weight off of his damaged leg. "Let's go home. I'll help you to the car."

Kenny nodded in acceptance and limped his way across the room using Kyle as a sort of crutch. The redhead didn't know it, but Kenny could walk decently on his own—he wouldn't let Kyle know that, though... not if him pretending as if he couldn't walk meant that Kyle would wrap his arm around him.

They were almost out the door before Kyle remembered something that Kenny had said earlier.

"You've had a tetanus shot in the past ten years, right?"

"I don't even know what tetanus_ is_."

"So that means you've never had one before?"

Kenny froze. "Uh. I don't—maybe I have—let's go, I need to make your—"

"I'll go find a band-aid."

* * *

Kenny stormed into the kitchen, his leg miraculously feeling fine all of a sudden. Kyle rolled his eyes as he shut the apartment door behind him, calling after the irritated blonde.

"It was _not _that bad, Kenny! It was just a shot!" he complained tiredly. "Stop acting like a child; you're twenty-five years old."

"It _stung!_"

"It was either get stung a little bit from a tiny shot or possibly die of a tetanus infection later on! Come on, Kenny; you work in construction, so it was only a matter of time before something like that happened." Kyle dropped his thin white lab coat over the back of the couch and kicked off his shoes before suddenly coming to a halt, his eyes growing wide. Even though he could never remember Kenny's deaths, he still thought that the blonde spoke the truth, even if it _was_ a weird concept. Weeks upon weeks of Kenny insisting and swearing he wasn't lying eventually brought Kyle to finally believe him. "Oh. You can't—I forgot about that."

Tearing through the kitchen while searching for the ingredients he needed, Kenny furrowed his brows as he remembered his recent encounter with Damien in the underworld. He felt a cold chill run down his spine; he could _die_. He could really die and _never _come back. It was as if the meaning of what he'd wished for was finally settling in. He had to take better care of himself now.

The stinging sensation from the shot wasn't such a big deal anymore and he silently thanked Kyle in the back of his mind.

"What's all this?" Kyle's curious voice rang throughout the apartment. Kenny bounded from his place in the kitchen and towards the bedroom that he and Kyle now shared, knowing good and well just what the Jew was talking about. Upon entering the room, he saw Kyle staring at the new furniture piece in confusion. "Where's the spare dresser?"

"I told you it was just taking up space," Kenny reminded him and motioned toward a messy stack of papers and books that sat atop the cheap desk that took the dresser's place. "I picked that up earlier today when I was on break from the thrift shop, but I couldn't find a shelf for the life of me so I'll try again tomorrow. I tried arranging some of your things on there, but uh... I got bored."

The shorter boy leaned forward and ran his hand over the desk; it was surprisingly smooth and clear of any visible damages for something pre-owned. Then he spotted the white partially-folded piece of paper with copious lines of text and numbers on the floor sticking out from beneath it... an instruction manual.

He smiled and turned around, clinging himself to Kenny with a tight squeeze. "You didn't have to do that."

Kenny wrapped his own arms around Kyle's back and nuzzled his nose into the mess of red hair, taking in the scent of strawberries. Kyle _always _smelled like strawberries—strawberries and the occasional clean linen. He wondered what he smelled like to Kyle; probably not too good since he was in desperate need of a shower at the moment, seeing as how he spent the past few hours shoulder-deep in a trench.

"I wanted to," the musky blonde breathed. "You're always so wrapped up in studying or whatever it is you're doing with all those damn books, being nerdy and stuff. I couldn't just let you go without. I swear, you spent more time sitting at your desk than anything else back in New York." He paused, feeling an odd sensation burn through his chest from embarrassment. He needed to cover up his tracks. "Besides, the last thing I need is the kitchen table to be overrun with your shit."

Kyle laughed and pulled away, stacking the books and loose papers into neat, individual stacks. "Still. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Kenny ran a hand through his greasy dirty-blonde hair and sighed. "I'll get started on those pancakes as soon as I'm out of the shower. I'm insanely gross right now."

"Sometimes I wonder what level of grossness you have to be at until you're willing to take a shower," Kyle snorted while shoving some of his belongings into the top desk drawer. "I guess my question has finally been answered; _insane_."

Now Kenny wondered what he smelled like to Kyle even more.

"'least I don't smell like a girl."

Kenny barely dodged the book that was chucked at his head before scurrying out of the bedroom and down the hall, snickering at Kyle's demise while taking off his shirt and tossing it onto the floor near the couch. He kicked off his shoes by the front door and began his journey to track down a clean—or at least _somewhat _clean—towel.

Cooling down from his most recent irritable outburst, Kyle was organizing his things on his new desk; it wasn't big enough to fit all of his study materials, but he was in no position to complain since Kenny had dipped into his own usually-bare pockets to get him something. He wanted to confront Kenny and tell him it was unnecessary to get a brand new desk and that a second-hand one would have been perfectly okay, but he didn't want to rain on Kenny's parade and hurt his pride. Kenny hated to be reminded that he didn't have much to his name, and that proud aura he was giving off when he showed Kyle the desk—Kyle figured he'd let this one slide.

The thought of Kenny thinking about him made him unconsciously smile, but it was short lived when his mind wandered over to Stan; did Stan ever think about him? There was that one time when Stan bought him that latte he liked, and even when Stan had washed his clothes... both after sex.

Kyle sighed and kicked interestedly at the wooden kitchen table chair that Kenny must've brought in for the desk. He didn't want to think about Stan—the past few days with Kenny had been great, and he felt as if he were already making some sort of progress. The occasional texts that Stan would send didn't help, but for the most part, Kyle was doing fine. With Kenny's attention purely focused on him alone and his demanding job at the hospital, he felt busy and caught up in his surroundings far too much to actually care about anything else.

There were a couple of medical textbooks that were too large to fit on the desk without nudging anything else off, causing Kyle to groan annoyedly. He looked around the room, attempting to find a place to put them. He rarely used these specific books, so it wasn't like they had to be readily accessible. His eyes fell to the bed.

_Perfect._

He knelt down, wincing as his knees came in contact with the floor. Despite the slight padding that his pants provided, it was no match for the horrible excuse for carpeting. He grumbled and leaned down further, being careful not to touch the ground with his cheek as he pushed the books underneath the bed. Every time he pushed, the books would bounce back with a rustling sound. He rolled his eyes and pulled the books out, fishing around for whatever it was that kept them from going in.

It should have been obvious that what he'd find would be stacks upon stacks of dirty magazines; Straight porn, gay porn, Victoria's Secret catalogues, male model pamphlets, and God knows what else. For some reason, he found himself growing more bothered as each second passed and he was still holding the mess of think booklets. He stood up and tossed them down onto the bed with a loud _slap_, one of the magazines unfolding to show an image of a man sprawled out on his stomach as another man took him from behind. Kyle's face flushed red and went to close it back up, noticing the pages were stiff. His nose scrunched up in realization as he attempted to pull the other pages apart but couldn't.

_Gross!_

Not wanting to imagine what horrible things Kenny's computer held in the depths of its hard drive, Kyle was about to go back to tidying up his desk area when he heard a feminine voice giggle in the other room.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Bebe laughed lightly as she leaned against the doorframe, twirling a piece of her hair around her index finger. She'd shown up right as Kenny was about to jump in the shower, so now here he was, stripped down to his boxers with a ivory colored towel slung over his shoulder.

"No, but you definitely missed poker the other night. What gives?"

Bebe rolled her eyes and smirked. "I know, I know. I totally didn't mean to bail out on you guys, but I wasn't feeling up for hanging out that night..." She bit her lip. "But I'm really feeling up for hanging out right now."

Kenny lifted a brow. "Oh?"

Her arms found their way around his waist, hands dipping into his boxers to cup his firm ass. Kenny's body went rigid at the unwelcome touch; before a few days ago, he'd have had no issue with tossing Bebe onto the couch right behind him and fucking her until she couldn't walk the next morning. Now was a different story, though.

"I'm so _wet_," she purred as she grinded her hips into his, pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. He shuddered and closed his eyes tightly. "I've been needing to be fucked good and hard for the past week, and you're just the man I need right now."

The next thing he knew, his wrist was being pulled away from him and his hand was submerged between some sort of fabric and hot skin. It clicked when his fingertips brushed against something warm and moist, causing Bebe's voice to hitch in her throat. Without a second thought, Kenny ripped his hand back and he opened his eyes, staring back at the turned-on blonde incredulously as he wiped his fingers on his boxers.

"Bebe, I-I can't," he stammered hurriedly. "This has to stop. I can't do this anymore—"

"What's wrong?" she asked, her brows knitted together. "Usually you're happy to see me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, no—I _am_ happy to see you, but I can't..." He looked over his shoulder at the bedroom door that was cracked open. There was no sign of his roommate. "It's Kyle."

Bebe's interest was immediately piqued. "Kyle Broflovski? He's here?"

"Shh!" Kenny hushed. "Yeah, he's um, he's been staying here with me. I'd love to catch you up on the detail and everything, but the point is that he's finally attempting to get over Stan, and I'm... well, I'm helping him."

Bebe tried her best to contain a squeal of excitement. Besides Craig, she was the only one who knew of Kenny's true feelings for the ill tempered redhead. "It's about fucking time! Have you made a move yet?"

Kenny gawked at her. "It's not exactly easy to make a move when I've got my hand down someone else's pants now, is it?" he asked heatedly, making Bebe giggle. "But no, I haven't. I'm trying I guess, but I mean, I don't want to put him under more stress than he's already under. Stan's a heavy issue right now."

"Well don't worry, I understand," Bebe said gingerly as she gave him a hug. "I just hope things finally work out for the two of you in your favor for once."

"Kenny?"

Kenny whipped his head around to find Kyle stomping his way down the hall. He pulled away from Bebe's friendly embrace and mentally prepared himself for a world of hurt if Kyle had seen and heard everything of the conversation; the last thing he wanted to earn was a swift slap across the face from the smaller boy.

"Oh, hey, Kyle!" Bebe called out enthusiastically as she bounced up and down. Kyle crossed his arms and glared at her, then at Kenny.

"I thought you were in the shower?"

"I was about to get in, but... Bebe knocked?"

"I was just popping in to say hello. I should get going—maybe I could catch Clyde instead before he leaves for his night shift. Bye!" She waved and scampered away, the door closing shut without her there to hold it open.

"Catch Clyde _instead?_" Kyle asked with narrowed forest-green eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? Why was she hugging you?"

Kenny let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding in. He silently thanked God in his head that Kyle had only seen that and nothing else. "I don't know, something about fixing her sink."

"She said she was just saying hello."

"Did she? That's what I mean't."

Kyle sighed. His defensive tone faltered and his shoulders slumped forward. Suddenly, he wasn't so threatening to Kenny anymore. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid."

Kenny shook his head and gave Kyle a light playful push. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."

"It's just, I don't know..." Kyle ignored him. "I don't know what's the matter. I know this is the way you are, and I totally accept it, but it's like—I still... I thought that maybe I'd be the only one you'd be with while you were helping me. It's dumb."

Kenny grinned. He hated to make Kyle feel so bad, but he couldn't help the small tinge of hope that was rising from the pit of his stomach at Kyle's obvious jealousy. It was far from the feelings that he hoped Kyle would someday feel, but it was still _something_, and that mattered.

"Like boyfriends?" Kenny asked, trying to conceal his smirk.

Kyle frowned. "That's not what I mean!"

"I know," Kenny chuckled and pulled his friend in for a hug. "I'm just fucking with you is all. But listen, don't worry about me being with anyone else, okay? I told you the other day that I'd be taking care of you now... I wouldn't be a very good pretend boyfriend if I was sleeping with other people, would I be?"

Kyle groaned in irritation at the rhetorical question and the pinned on relationship title. "No."

"I told Bebe that I wasn't interested," Kenny pulled away and looked down at the redhead, catching his gaze. Kyle's eyes were absolutely stunning, and he wished that he could stand there all day just staring into them. "I'm not going to be with anyone but you. I promise."

For a second, he swore saw Kyle's expression lift up and a smile tug at his lips. That only lasted for a fraction of a second though, before Kyle's irate glare was right back on Kenny and he was shoving him away.

"Then that means you have to get rid of your sick porn collection, too!" He practically shouted. "I found your stash under the bed—_disgusting_! They're all dried up and... and... just gross!"

Kenny laughed. "So I can't even look at pictures?"

"No!" Kyle complained, balling up his hands into fists at his sides. He didn't feel like explaining himself and why he was so uncomfortable with him holding onto the dirty magazines; he didn't want to have to tell Kenny how it reminded him of Stan and how he had Wendy to go to whenever he wasn't enough for the raven-haired man. He didn't want to think he wouldn't be enough for Kenny, even if they _were _in a completely platonic yet romantic-ish relationship for the sake of helping him get over the aforementioned male.

"If you want me to throw them out so badly, then you don't have to say it again," Kenny chimed with an oddly mellow grin that made the other nervous. Kyle didn't understand what Kenny was up to, but he was sure it was no good.

"Good. Because they're gross."

"You made your point,"

"All sticky, and—_Jesus Christ_, can't you contain yourself?"

"You act like you've never jacked off before."

Kyle's face flushed red in embarrassment. Suddenly, his sweater vest was feeling restrictive around his neck. "Not to a _magazine._ That's just weird," he mumbled quietly before turning around and retreating back to the bedroom to finish organizing his things.

Kenny gave a toothy grin as he followed suit, heading to the bathroom instead. His head was full of thoughts that would definitely come in handy during his time spent in the shower, especially since his magazines would no longer be of availability to him.


	6. Text Messages

"I've said, 'I've got to just get on with this,'

You are the only thing I think about,

But I left as far as I could get to still stay close,

To see you, if you've changed,

I'm the same, and that's what's wrong."

**Good Old War** - That's What's Wrong

* * *

Florida was nice.

The sun was warm, the beaches were sandy, the nightlife was lively on the strip in Clearwater Beach where they had booked their hotel for the week... but the best part of it all was the fact that it wasn't South Park.

Stan let out an accomplished breath of air as he stood in front of the sliding glass door, curtains grasped in each hand while he surveyed the people walking the sidewalk below him. The sun was setting and directly across from their room was the beach, where there happened to be a drum circle; the same one that he and Wendy had just returned from minutes ago.

"That was fun," Wendy mused with a yawn from the bed. "I hope we can do that again sometime. It's a shame that South Park doesn't have things going on like that."

"Mhmm," Stan nodded and slid the curtains shut. He didn't sound enthusiastic about it, but he undoubtedly had a ton of fun. It's just that ever since he and Wendy came back to their room, there was only one thing on his mind; the short skirt that she'd worn had him going crazy all afternoon, and when her shirt got wet from the ocean water, letting him get a glimpse of her breasts, he almost took her right then and there.

Stan made his way to the other side of the bed, shimmying out of his jeans and crawling in next to his wife. He scooted behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, nuzzling her neck. "I love you," he whispered while planting small kisses on her shoulder. "You're so beautiful."

She tilted her head back in acceptance of the affection, and Stan took his cue to grind his hips into her from behind. Being timid and submissive compared to his wife, he didn't usually approach her like this, but he had something else on his agenda. For the past six days, he'd been craving something that he wasn't sure Wendy would be into. Still, he figured it wouldn't hurt to at least try.

"Mmm, taking charge for once?" Wendy asked with a smirk while turning her head to meet Stan's lust-filled gaze. Her only reply was a large hand dipping into the front of her underwear, palming her sensitive clit. She barely had time to register what had happened when two fingers spread her folds and a thick digit was jammed into her, causing her to moan and buck her hips up. She didn't know where all this was coming from, but she definitely hoped she would be seeing more of this side of him. "Ahh! S-Stan!"

Stan grinned to himself, pleased to see his plan was going smoothly. "Fuck, Wendy—you're so wet," He nibbled along her jaw, eliciting warm mewls and moans from the girl. He took a second to pull his hand away, earning a whine of protest from his wife as she turned to beg for more. He complied with her pleas, but not before hurriedly pulling down both his and her underwear. He found his spot behind his wife once more and returned to fulfill his promises, only to find her legs spread open and her hips humping the air. He laughed and wasted no time in slipping two fingers into her, pressing up against her backside while the tip of his leaking erection rubbed in between her cheeks. He shuddered; that's what he wanted. "You're such a dirty girl, Wendy. Look at you."

"Please Stan, I-I need to... _ahh_... I need to feel you inside me," Wendy panted while reaching behind her to grab onto Stan's hair. Stan licked a line from the base of her neck to right beneath her ear, making her shiver. This was the moment of truth.

"I want to try something different," he whispered while pulling his fingers from her wet cavern. He grabbed one of Wendy's round cheeks and pushed himself further into her, biting his lip when he felt the warmth of her hole against his dick. He was so close. "I promise you'll like it."

Wendy didn't give him chance to prove that though, because she pulled away from him as soon as those words left his lips and turned to grace him with a look of bewilderment and a slap to the face.

"You're disgusting, Stan!"

Stan winced as he held a hand over his burning cheek. "C'mon, everyone does it! Just... let's do it once, that's all. You can't knock it 'til you try it!"

"I have half a mind to _knock_ you upside the head," she shot back before turning over and pulling the blanket up to her chin, now thoroughly put off from the idea of sex at all. "And not _everyone _does it, Stan."

"Kyle does!"

"Well maybe you should go fuck Kyle," she seethed before clicking off the lamp next to her, signalling that she was finished with the conversation and was painfully unaware of her husband's past escapades with the aforementioned man. Stan huffed in return and threw himself back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling in disgust while an awkward silence engulfed them.

He groaned and turned over on his side, eyeing his cell phone as his mind drifted to his best friend. He loved Wendy, he really did, but Kyle provided a release that she couldn't; Wendy was clearly the one in control in their relationship, and though he always preferred it that way since it was less stress on him, he couldn't help the fact that he _was_ a man and that he wanted to feel powerful sometimes. There'd been times that he'd try, but it would always backfire; while he might have succeeded in the bedroom once or twice, as soon as they left the confines of their home and were among friends and family, he was soon overshadowed by her brains and her strong willed personality, leaving him to seem a bumbling idiot. Whatever he might have accomplished hours before would go to waste.

With Kyle, it was different and refreshing since he always had a bit of leverage over the redhead; Stan was the natural sportsman and leader of their group, and Kyle's later professed feelings for him only added fuel to the fire. It wasn't as if Stan only viewed Kyle as his subordinate though, because that definitely wasn't the case—he really did care about him. After all, Kyle was his Super Best Friend, but later... _with benefits_. He wasn't afraid to express his dominance over him. Kyle let Stan manhandle him and treat him however he wanted to, and Stan couldn't possibly pass up the chance to feel authoritative for once.

Minutes passed, but he was still hard at the prospect of being buried to the hilt inside of his best friend when all this was over. With one long drawn-out breath of air, he sat up and snatched his phone from the bedside table, making his way for the bathroom to relieve himself. Once the door was locked behind him, he sat on the edge of the large tub and began to punch out a text to the Jew.

Stan might have realized long ago that he let things get out of hand with Kyle, but he couldn't quit. It was too good to walk away from.

* * *

"That sounds like one of the worst ideas that you've ever had," Craig repeated while he towel-dried a coffee mug. "You and I both know that this isn't going to end well."

Kenny leaned over the counter, his forearms pressed against the smooth black granite and his hands clasped together as he watched a certain messy-haired blonde race around behind Craig, fulfilling his small order. He'd just finished telling Craig about the other night when Bebe showed up and Kyle got jealous, only to have the stoic man rain on his parade and point out that Kyle was easily jealous about everything, so it meant absolutely nothing that Kyle had a bit of an attitude when the curly-haired blonde showed up on his doorstep.

Kenny forgot how much of a buzzkill Craig could be.

"What could go wrong?"

"Tons of things can go wrong, but the biggest thing to worry about here would be Kyle still being head over heels for Stan when it's all said and done," Craig dipped below the counter and grabbed a paper bag, fluffing it open. "Ever think about just trying to move on? Maybe you guys aren't meant to be."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "You're one to talk, Mr. Tweak."

"It's still Tucker," he corrected sharply as Tweek slid two neatly wrapped packages down the counter towards his husband. Craig smiled and kissed Tweek on his temple, earning a squeak of appreciation before he disappeared into the background once more. Kenny fake-gagged at the PDA. "Tweek insisted on dropping his last name like it was hot, which sucks since I thought Craig Tucker-Tweak had a nice ring to it."

"How cute."

"Don't think I still won't fuck your shit up, McCormick." Craig warned as he rung up the order.

Kenny snickered and snatched the bag. He highly doubted that Craig still had it in him to do any serious damage. "What makes you think I should give up on Kyle when you never gave up on Tweek?"

Craig shrugged. "It's different."

"You're right—I don't have to put up with any crazy shit from Kyle like you do with Tweek."

"Hey, I _like_ Tweek's crazy, thank you," Craig flipped him off with both hands. "You're the one stuck with a ticking time bomb while I've got a full body massager, asshole."

"Is t-that what you think of _-nngh- _me?" a soft voice joined into the conversation. Craig looked over his shoulder to see Tweek, who had his brows furrowed together in an expression of disdain. Before Craig could defend himself, Tweek stormed off to the storage room and slammed the door.

"It was a compliment! I _like_ how you're always shaking!" Craig shouted in distress. He groaned when there was no reply and turned back to Kenny with a look of smoldering hatred in his eyes. "God dammit, this is your fault; I'm gonna have to suck so much dick tonight, and I didn't even do anything wrong."

Kenny roared with laughter as he scrunched the top of the bag up to keep the heat in as much as possible. Craig and Tweek were an absolute trip for him, and he'd make as many frequent stops at Tweak Bros. as often as he could.

He was about to retort with a smart ass line when his phone began to ring. Kyle's name flashed across the screen.

"What's up, darlin'?" Kenny drawled in a fake southern accent.

"Kenny, what the fuck is going on under the couch?" Kyle wasted no time with greetings and got straight to the point. "You've got—there's so many sunflower seeds! And... and is that _molded bread_? Are you _trying_ to attract roaches?"

Uh-oh.

"What's that? You said you want me to pick up some tampons?" Kenny asked with a smirk. He'd deal with the oncoming wrath that was Kyle when he got home; for now, he might as well screw around with him. Craig watched warily from the other side of the counter.

"Kenny, I'm not playing with you. This is disgusting!"

"Heavy flow. Got it," he nodded. "I'll be home in a second."

"KENNETH FUCKING MCCORMICK—"

_Click._

Kenny looked up from his phone to see Craig wide-eyed. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the normally not-so-easily shaken man; if that freaked him out, then he should've seen Kyle when he went Jersey. Living on the East Coast was dangerous at times with the ill-tempered redhead. "Isn't he precious?"

"Um. Yeah."

* * *

When he got home, he instantly knew something was wrong with Kyle from the state of the apartment; the floors were free of dirt and stains, surfaces were spotless, and the smell of Pine-Sol slammed his senses like a ton of bricks. In the near distance, he could hear the sink faucet running, so he headed for the kitchen.

Just how Kyle knew Stan's nervous quirks, Kenny knew all of Kyle's, and Kyle really only had four major outlets when he was feeling under pressure; chewing his bottom lip, scratching compulsively behind his ear, taking apart and putting small things back together, and obsessively cleaning whatever he could get his hands on. These ranged in order from least to greatest, depending on what it was that tipped him off.

Judging by the amount of steam in the air and Kyle's rigid stance at the sink where he was fervently washing dishes, Kenny could tell that Kyle was about two seconds away from straight out chucking them at the wall. He wanted to ask what was bothering him, but Kenny knew better; Kyle wasn't one for just immediately dumping his problems out on the table unless he was driven to.

Unsure if Kyle had even heard him come in, he moseyed on over to the stressed out redhead and wrapped his arms around him from behind, his chest pressing firmly against Kyle's back as Kenny rested his chin on the shorter man's shoulder. Kyle seemed unphased.

"You're gonna wash your hands raw if you keep the water that hot," Kenny warned while reaching out to turn on the cold water tap. "Is that better?"

"Whatever," Kyle grunted and firmly pushed Kenny away with his shoulder. Kenny pursed his lips and shook his head, persistently resuming his stance behind the redhead while addedly nosing Kyle's neck.

"You're so cute when you're mad," Kenny chuckled while leaving a few soft kisses on Kyle's clothed shoulder. "So why are you cleaning so much, huh? Are you my little housewife?"

Kenny was harshly shoved backwards once again, causing him to stumble this time. Kyle whipped around and threw a small plate on the ground in anger. Kenny finally had Kyle's undivided attention, but he was beginning to regret wanting it in the first place.

"I'm not a fucking girl!" Kyle shouted while fixing his heated gaze on the blonde, who had their arms up in defeat. "I'm not a girl, I'm not a housewife, and I'm not some fucking toy you can just play with whenever you feel like it!"

Kenny blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Fucking stop messing with me!"

Silence.

"Hey, I didn't know it bothered you that much," Kenny took a chance and lowered his arms to his sides. "I was just kidding, you know. I don't really think you're a girl. I won't joke around about that anymore, alright?"

Kyle's shoulders fell as he deflated, turning back towards the sink. "It's not that, it's just... it's nothing. Forget about it."

"It's obviously something," Kenny disagreed and stepped back over to the Jew, avoiding the broken pieces of ceramic that littered the floor and found his spot behind him once again. Kyle didn't fight against him this time. "Talk to me. I'll listen."

Kyle opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He sighed and pulled it out, finding another message from Stan that was even more degrading than the last. With tears of anger welling up in the corners of his eyes, he slammed the phone down onto the counter in front of him and choked back a sob. "I just want him to stop."

"Who? What?" Kenny asked worriedly while reaching for the discarded phone. While Kyle attempted to breathe calmly through his nose, Kenny navigated through past texts shared between the redhead and the thorn in his side named Stan. He didn't understand what the problem was since the messages were, for the most part, normal pieces of conversation, but as he scrolled up through more recent ones, his blood began to boil. _"This motherfucker."_

"I'm not a whore," Kyle defended himself from Stan's words as a tear rolled down his cheek. "He always does this when he wants something... he hasn't said much this week since he's with Wendy on their honeymoon, but for the past two days it's all he's been doing." He wiped at the wetness on his cheek, only to have another tear begin to fall. He was fighting a losing battle. "I thought I was getting over this, but he's making it so hard... maybe I should just accept the fact that I'm always going to go back to him. This is st—"

"No," Kenny cut him off and spun him around. He gave Kyle a stern look that meant business. "Don't think like that. You're going to get over him, I promise," His thumbs traced over the tear streaks that were left on Kyle's cheeks. "You're right—You're not anyone's toy and you're none of those horrible things that he calls you, okay? You're nothing short of perfect and you better start believing that, or else I'm just going to have to show you."

Kyle sniffed and bit his lip nervously. Over the week spent with Kenny so far, he was still trying to get used to the constant affection the tall blonde would show him, and having his face cradled in Kenny's hands still felt far too intimate for him. "Show me how?"

Kenny's stone expression was cracked with one of his unreadable smirks, making the other shudder in anticipation. He leaned in and pressed a long kiss to Kyle's forehead. "Don't worry about it. Here," He pulled away and reached for the brown paper bag that he had earlier tossed onto the kitchen table, retrieving a wrapped lukewarm toasted bagel with cream cheese from inside. He held it up to Kyle and said, "Go, sit down and relax. I'm not gonna start dinner for a while tonight since I've got to leave back out and pop in at my parents house."

Kyle took it gingerly, feeling his stomach rumble. Cleaning definitely made him hungry and he was thankful for the food. "I've got to pick up the brok—"

"Don't worry, I've got it," Kenny gave Kyle a light shove towards the living room. Kyle wanted to argue but he ended up just nodding and began to take his leave. He really didn't feel like putting up a fight at the moment since Stan had mentally wore him out.

"He's gonna be back tomorrow," Kyle began slowly when he stopped in the doorway. "I forgot a few books that I really need back at the house, but I left my keys there since I figured I wouldn't need to go back..."

"I'll come with you to get them," Kenny offered while leaning against the table. "We'll go tomorrow after work."

Kyle gave a small smile as if to say thanks before continuing for the living room. Once he was out of sight, Kenny's face fell and he grabbed for the forgotten cell phone that Kyle had left on the counter. There was one new message from Stan that neither of them had read. Kenny opened it and let his eyes wander over the line of text that was accompanied by a picture of an indecent Stan Marsh.

With a clenched jaw, he replied:

'_**You better leave Kyle alone or I'm going to kick your fucking ass. - McCormick'**_

* * *

**tmcala**: Thanks so much! I agree, obscure pairings are awesome! And noble/sweet is just what I was going for with Kenny here - just what Kyle needs ;)

**Angelwarrior1:** I'm glad that you're happy with how good Kenny treats Kyle! Sometimes I wonder if I'm going overboard with the sweetness, but I can't help it! And you're definitely right with the idea of what happened with Stan and Kyle... Stan took Kyle for granted :(


	7. I Love You, Kyle

"And if I'm not for you then I will know when I am talking to you,

If doubt is breaking through your brow, I will know,

There's nothing I can do, I'm not for you."

**Good Old War -** I'm Not For You

* * *

"_You sure about this?" Stan had asked as he pressed each of his hands into the mattress on either side of Kyle. He leaned his forehead against the boy's below him, never breaking eye contact._

_Kyle nodded tentatively as his own hands rose up and hooked over Stan's broad shoulders. He bit his lip shyly and opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Stan furrowed his brows in question and Kyle decided to give another attempt at speaking._

"_I'm sure," he answered and leaned up to give his best friend a chaste kiss on the lips. Stan went rigid at the sudden contact, pulling away to roll his shoulders out of nervousness. Kyle took these actions with a grain of salt, knowing Stan was so unresponsive only because this would be their first time and he was being so technical about it, not wanting to mess it up. "Just... swear nothing will change between us."_

_Stan cracked an assuring smile. "Of course, dude. Super best friends forever."_

_With an encouraging and bubbly laugh from the redhead below him, he let his weight shift a bit so that he was barely hovering above Kyle. He nudged Kyle's legs open a bit wider and let himself fall into place between them. Taking a second to look up from positioning himself, he saw Kyle watching anxiously._

"_Go slow at first, alright?"_

"_I'll be as gentle as possible," he dipped down and placed a light kiss on Kyle's cheek. He knew of Kyle's feelings for him, and even though they weren't reciprocated in the exact same way, he wanted to make sure that his best friend's first time would at least be special. "I promise."_

Kyle gripped the steering wheel as he came to a stoplight. The drive to his old place of residence was quiet and uncomfortable... well, at least for him it was. Kenny seemed to be caught up in his own incessant humming as he watched other cars and buildings as they passed.

It was late in the day but he didn't want to go alone and Kenny didn't end up getting home from work until a little past five o'clock. This struck an odd chord in Kyle since he was used to the simple routine Kenny had set over the week: The blonde would wake up as the sun began to rise at six, go throughout his morning duties, and then be out and on his way to work by seven. Kyle would eventually wake up himself thirty minutes later to find breakfast ready on the table, his insulin bottle and a fresh syringe laid out next to it. There'd usually be an accompanied Post-It note with something sarcastic scribbled out along the lines of _"Try not to die,_" and _"Don't forget to stab yourself in the stomach or something."_

Later, he'd come home around three or four and find Kenny somewhere around the apartment. Kyle would always thank him for breakfast, but neither of them would mention a thing about the insulin or the notes, except for the one time that Kyle forgot to put the bottle back in the fridge before leaving for the hospital, only to come home and be scolded as if he'd done something horrible. He tried to tell Kenny that it wasn't even a full 24-hours and that the insulin was fine since the apartment was freezing cold anyways but Kenny just refused to listen, complained some more, and eventually went back to sucking on those stupid sunflower seeds while watching NASCAR.

When he asked about what kept him at work so late, Kenny told him he had some problems with the excavator and had to stay late to fix it. Kyle took his excuse at face value until he noticed long, deep red marks running down the taller boy's back when he took off his shirt to jump in the shower. Boldly, he had raised a brow and asked if that was from the excavator, too. Kenny had the audacity to say, "Actually, yeah," and gave Kyle a condensed version of the _Mike is an Asshole_ story, replacing the nail gun with an excavator, as he craned his neck to check himself out in the mirror. He followed up the tale with an inquiry to have Dr. Broflovski clean him up before it got infected or something, to which Kyle begrudgingly agreed to. He wanted to call Kenny out on his bullshit but he said nothing else after that, feeling a tinge of betrayal and bitterness for the man he'd grown to trust quite a bit over the past seven days.

Kyle grabbed at the unopened can of Dr. Pepper he'd brought along for the trip and popped the top, taking a long sip while he waited for the light to turn green. When he went to put it back in the cupholder, he was met with a hard glare from a pair of light blue eyes.

"What?"

"That's your second soda in the past hour," Kenny answered as he went to take the can hostage. "That's enough."

Kyle gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes, moving the can out of reach. "So what, I'm thirsty."

"Drink something _diet_, then. Or water. Water is even better."

"Like you care!" Kyle found himself almost shouting, his voice rising dangerously higher than it needed to be for the currently occupied space. He was already upset with Kenny for outright lying to him on the spot earlier, and now he had the nerve to act like he cared and wanted to watch out for Kyle's wellbeing. "You don't care about anything—you're just a liar!"

Kenny's brows knitted together in confusion, his upset expression faltering. "What are you talking about, of course I care about you."

"Is that what you told her, too?" The words were rolling off of his tongue without a second thought, bringing the idea of Bebe to mind. He was still a little sore over that. "Or was it _him_?"

"Alright, I think there must be some sort of misunderstanding here, because I really don't know what's going on ri—"

"Mike lifted the excavator bucket thing whatever when you weren't looking and it scratched your back, right," Kyle mocked heatedly. "What's there to misunderstand about _that?"_

Kenny blinked and turned completely in his seat to face the angered redhead. "You think I _lied _about that happening?"

"Well it's not exactly a likely story, now is it?"

"Of course it's not _likely_, but when is anything likely that ever happens to me? You know how unlucky I am!" Kenny reasoned, emphasising his words with hand gestures. Kyle just shrugged. "Besides, how could I possibly lie when you were the one cleaning the friggin' embedded dirt out of those marks?"

They came to another stoplight. Kyle wasn't one to relent so easily. "You could have thrown yourself into the dirt after sex to make it seem like you're telling the truth."

"The fact that you even went that far as to imagine I'd do something like that hurts, Ky."

Complete silence fell over them as they continued their drive. Kenny had turned back to staring out the window, not saying another word to counter Kyle's accusations while the other man sat rigid in the driver's seat, silently contemplating whether or not he was being too harsh. He tried to recall cleaning out any dirt from Kenny's back wounds earlier but he was so irritated at the time that he was barely paying enough attention to even properly fix his friend up.

He decided he might have been out of line when he stole a sideways glance over at the blonde, who had his head propped on a fist while he looked on carelessly. It caused a pang of guilt to rise up in Kyle's chest.

"Just because I don't have the best track record doesn't mean I'm not trustworthy. Name one thing I've ever lied to you about," Kenny finally said, his rhetorical question so quiet that it was barely audible over the sound of traffic. "You can't because I've never lied to you, Kyle, and I never would."

"I'm sorry," Kyle apologized with a heavy sigh. Kenny looked over to meet his gaze. "I know you're not a liar, but I'm just... that was stupid of me, okay? I promise I'll start believing you. I know you wouldn't do something to hurt me on purpose."

Kenny nodded and gave a small smile in acceptance to Kyle's apology. "And for the record, I _do_ care."

"I know."

"So no more soda today, alright?" Kenny asked while nodding to the half-full can between them. Kyle answered with a scoff. He wanted to tell Kenny that he'd seriously be just fine, that sometimes it was necessary for him to have _more _sugar to balance out his insulin intake, but he decided to save that conversation for another time later on when he could properly teach Kenny what's okay and what's not okay.

"Alright," the redhead mumbled as they turned a corner. Without warning, Kenny took the can and tossed it out the window. Kyle groaned and added _'Talk to Kenny About How Littering is Illegal'_ to the list of necessary conversations they needed to have. "What's gotten into you lately?"

Kenny perked a brow. "What do you mean?"

"You've been... I dunno. Like, really... sweet and considerate," Kyle answered thoughtfully. "Ever since the wedding you've been like that. I don't think I've seen you make an actual pass at me or anyone else _once_. Are you alright?"

Kenny shrugged. "There's a time and place for everything. I can behave myself, believe it or not. Figured now wasn't exactly the right time to be screwing around so much."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just worried that you had changed completely is all," Kyle said. He didn't want to admit it, but, "I sort of miss the old Kenny. He was disgusting and raunchy, sure, but he was amusing. He made me laugh."

Kenny grinned cheekily at the confession. "Really, now?" he asked while scooting over towards Kyle as close as he could get with the cupholders and gearshift between them. "Here I was, all this time thinking that you hated me flirting with you."

Kyle laughed, growing a bit nervous at Kenny's intrusion of his personal space. "I didn't _hate_ it, I just—"

"How about some road head, then?" Kenny asked with a devilish smirk as he dipped a hand down to palm the redhead's clothed thigh. "Besides, I've always wanted to know if the carpets matched the drapes."

"Don't do that!" Kyle scolded while jerking his leg away. Kenny just laughed and returned back to the confines of his seat. "I changed my mind, I like the new Kenny better."

"When I finally get into those pants of yours, it won't _matter_ which Kenny I am," the blonde teased with a sly smile. "You'll be screaming my name either way."

"Alright, that's enough." Kyle said while reaching to turn the radio on.

"What's the biggest you've ever had?"

"Kenny," he groaned, growing irate.

"Oh, I like the way you say my name."

"_SHUT UP."_

The rest of the ride was silent, save for the sound of Kenny's snickering and the tops hits of today blasting through the stereo at a volume not high enough to drown the blonde out.

* * *

Stan was shirtless when they pulled up to the front of the house, head ducked beneath the hood of his trusty old pickup truck. When he heard the sound of two doors opening and slamming shut he craned his neck to get a peek at who had arrived from under his arm.

Kyle took large strides up the driveway, hurrying to get to the front porch without gaining the attention of the raven haired man while Kenny attempted to catch up from his place outside the passenger side door. "Hey, wait up!" he shouted as he closed in on the redhead. He clasped a hand on Kyle's shoulder to keep him from going any further without him. "What are you in such a rush for?"

"I just want to get my books."

"Well it's not like they're gonna grow legs and run awa—"

"Kyle?"

Both of them turned around to be greeted with the sight of a curious Stan, his shirt stained with oil and dark streaks of dirt spread across his forehead and cheeks. Kyle resisted the urge to lean forward and wipe it off.

"Where have you been? What're you doing here, Kenny?"

"My books are under the desk in my room. It's the second one on the left upstairs," Kyle said while turning to Kenny. "Can you go get them for me?"

"But—"

"Please?"

Kenny went to protest but ended up shutting his mouth when the urgency of Kyle's stare sunk in. He look from Kyle, to the dark haired man standing behind him protectively, and then back to the redhead once more. With a defeated sigh he turned around, quickly made his way up the porch steps and began to navigate his way to Kyle's old bedroom. When Kenny was out of sight, Stan was the first to break the silence with a rehashed version of his earlier question.

"What are you doing here with him?"

"I live with him, Stan. We're just here to pick up a couple things that I forgot—"

"You moved in with him while I was gone?" Stan asked. "Is that why your room seemed sort of empty? What the hell did I miss?"

"You didn't _miss_ anything. I've just decided that I'm done with these stupid little games, is all," Kyle answered as calmly as possible while going to leave and join up with the blonde. "Ken helped me realize a few things, and he's sort of helping me out."

Stan's hand shot out, grasping Kyle's upper arm tight enough to keep him from moving. He pulled the smaller man back and turned him around forcefully, giving the redhead a skeptical look. "What are you talking about, what games? And what do you mean _'sort of helping you out'_?" he spat. "You've been avoiding my texts all week and I come home to hear that you've moved out without an explanation..." His brows furrowed in confusion as he remembered something. "Speaking of texts, what the hell was up with the one from yesterday?"

Kyle pursed his lips, not wanting to deal with this. Suddenly, he was regretting letting Kenny leave him alone with Stan to go off and retrieve his stuff. He had no idea what Stan was referring to either since he'd lost his phone somewhere in the apartment yesterday.

Kyle tugged his arm from Stan's grasp and rubbed at the area where he was sure bruises would form later. It wasn't as if Stan's hold on him was that tight, but he bruised easily due to his diabetes. "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't _owe _you anything."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, shit," Stan said while reaching out for Kyle's arm, but Kyle stepped back. "Look, I just want to know what all this is about, okay? I mean, you just showed up with Kenny of all people to pick up your stuff and—I don't want you to move out. I'll miss you too much."

"Yeah, right."

"Seriously! You're my Super Best Friend, dude!"

"Well Super Best Friends don't screw around with each other's emotions like you do!"

They both fell silent for a few seconds, burning holes into each other's eyes with their own. Stan's gaze was shocked and apologetic while Kyle's was downright pissed, his face a bright red to accent his current feelings of rage. Neither of them were aware of the eavesdropping blonde who had his head stuck out Kyle's bedroom window, listening to them. He had found the books with ease and wanted to get back to Kyle's side as soon as possible, but decided to give them a moment when he caught a piece of their conversation. He figured that perhaps Kyle would finally tell Stan he was through with him, and Kenny didn't want to interrupt _that_.

"Is this about... you know," Stan said sheepishly while trying to reach for his friend once more, but Kyle wouldn't allow it. "I thought we got over that. I thought what we were doing was okay now?"

"What made you think it was okay? It was _never _okay, Stan!" Kyle shouted, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He wouldn't cry in front of Stan though. Not then. "There was never a point during _whatever_ this is where I was fine, and it's—I couldn't take it anymore. Not after you actually went through with marrying Wendy,"

"Well I love her, Kyle."

"And I love you," Kyle swallowed the knot in his throat. "But that doesn't mean anything I guess."

Stan's shoulders dropped. "Kyle..."

"And you know what? That's fine. Ken's showing me that I don't need you, Stan," Kyle continued, feeling a little more confident in himself. "Do I _want_ you? Of course I do, more than anything. Fuck, I might want you for the rest of my life, but... but I don't need anyone; especially not you."

There was another long pause between the two of them, Kyle standing a little taller while Stan cleared his throat incessantly while refusing to look Kyle in the eyes. Kenny continued to watch from above, wondering when he should throw himself into the mix, but decided it wouldn't hurt to wait another minute or two. Then Stan spoke up, barely audible but loud enough for only Kyle to hear:

"Nice to know that one week with Kenny fucking McCormick can turn you into a total backstabbing slut, Kyle."

Kyle's face twisted up into a look of pure confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I leave for _one_ fucking week and you run off with Kenny," Stan said a little louder this time, anger adding a bite to his words. "What, I'm not enough for you? You need Kenny's dick, too?"

"Are you fucking serious, Stan," Kyle breathed while pressing his palms flat against his face, trying his damned hardest not to punch Stan in the nose for being so stupid. Not once had he slept with the blonde who was still perched above him; he'd barely just gotten completely comfortable with _kissing_ the guy. "This is ridiculous."

"Well maybe if you weren't riding his fucking dick we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"I'm not fucking him!"

"Bullshit!"

"JESUS CHRIST, I'M DONE," Kyle screamed while pushing past the raven-haired man and stomping towards his dark-blue Explorer. Stan didn't go to make a move, watching stone-faced as his presumably ex-best friend stepped into the vehicle that seemed just a little too big for him. Kenny, on the other hand, was attempting to get the hell out of the house as fast as he possibly could. The blonde eventually emerged, bounding down the porch stairs as he half-chased after the vehicle that was long gone while waving his free arm in the air and shouting after it. He stopped at the bottom of the driveway once he noticed that it would do no good.

"This is all your fault," he heard someone growl from behind him. He turned around just in time to see Stan tackle him to the ground and raise a fist for a punch that would never come; Kenny had grabbed both of Stan's hands and forced them away, turning the tables and headbutted him instead.

Stan yelped and tugged one of his hands free to rub at his forehead before decking Kenny in the cheek, causing him to shout a loud "hey!" from the unexpected contact.

"You," Stan managed to grunt through gritted teeth as he tried for another punch but was denied. "You've been sleeping with him—_I'm going to kill you!"_

"What's going on?" Wendy's voice rang out, cutting through the sound of the boys' scuffling. Stan immediately jumped up and away from the fallen blonde as if he were made of hot lava. "Were you two just fighting?"

"What? No," Stan attempted to laugh but it came out nervous and garbled. He palmed the back of his neck anxiously as Kenny stood up and dusted himself off, glaring daggers at the man in front of him. Both knew not to make any sudden lunges for each other's throat or else Wendy would be asking questions that neither of them were prepared to answer. "We were just wrestling; having some bro time. Don't worry about us. You can go back to doing, uh, whatever."

Wendy looked between the both of them, knowing good and well that something wasn't right. Still, she nodded and ducked back into the house. Once a few seconds passed and Stan was sure she wasn't going to pop her head back out the door again, he lurched forward and grabbed at Kenny, bared teeth knitted brows. Kenny returned the look.

"I don't know what you're up to, but it's not gonna work," Stan snarled with his fist tangled in the collar of Kenny's shirt. "Kyle's not going to go for someone who doesn't even have all of his teeth."

Kenny explored his own mouth with his tongue for a moment, genuinely confused. Besides hating dental pain, he could never afford to go to the dentist so he made sure to always keep his teeth in the best shape that he possibly could on his own. "I _have_ all of my teeth; what the hell are you talking about?"

Stan just stared.

"Wait—was that some sort of shitty redneck joke, because that wasn't funny at all. Jesus, dude, you suck at this," Kenny forced a laugh and pushed Stan away, making him stumble backwards a bit. "At least Cartman knew how to make me laugh."

"Like I said—"

"No, like _I_ said," Kenny interrupted, referring to the text message he'd sent Stan the night before. "You leave him alone. He's had to deal with enough of your bullshit for ten lifetimes and I'll be damned if I let you walk all over him anymore." He straightened out his shirt, picked up the medical books that were scattered near his feet, and turned towards the direction that Kyle had driven off in minutes prior. Stan's lips were in a tight line as he watched Kenny look over his shoulder at the raven with a smug smirk, only to add, "And if you want to fight, I'd be more than happy to. Be warned, though; I toss around fifty-pound bags of cement for a living like it's nobody's business and I'm not above breaking your neck at this point in time."

With that, he was gone, leaving Stan to shout incessant lines of insults until the blonde turned the corner and was out of sight.

* * *

Kyle slammed the door shut and stalked off into the kitchen, all while grumbling under his breath. Who did Stan think he is, telling Kyle what he can and cannot do? He'd lost that right when he put a ring on Wendy's finger. Hell, he never had the right to begin with; nobody did!

Kyle didn't have to listen to anyone but himself, and at that moment he told himself that he needed a drink. Or ten.

_I know there's alcohol somewhere around here. It's Kenny, for fucks sake,_ Kyle thought as he tore through the cupboards. For a while he thought that he actually wouldn't find any, until he came across a single unopened bottle of apple-flavored Vodka under the sink. He didn't even give a single thought as to how that was an odd place to keep liquor before uncapping the bottle and taking the biggest gulp he could without a shot glass, ignoring the burning at the back of his throat.

_Stan's such a fucking hypocritical asshole. I hope he burns in Hell._

He entertained the idea of searching for a shot glass, but decided against it as he took another large sip; drinking from the bottle was working just fine.

_I don't need him. I've got Kenny now. Kenny's a billion times better than_—

"Shit!" Kyle whispered while smacking a palm to his head, remembering that he'd forgotten Kenny back at the house. He knew he was forgetting something. "I can't drive now. Fuck. I hope he's not mad," he thought out loud while taking one more large swig. Once he decided that 1/4th of the bottle was more than enough for him, who was already a lightweight to begin with, he screwed the cap back on and left it on the table next to one of Kenny's unfinished model houses. He made a mental note to bring up the idea of finishing that degree to Kenny sometime soon.

_Maybe he'd want some when he gets back. I wouldn't mind drinking more with him if so. Besides, who knows what'll happen if we're both drunk. It's been awhile since..._

He shook his head and trailed off on that thought; the alcohol was already beginning to sink in and the last thing he wanted to do was prove Stan right at the time, even if Stan would never find out.

With a sigh, he left for the living room to sit and watch TV until the liquor really began make an impact on him. Lord knew he needed to relax, but part of him hoped he'd be sobered up enough by the time Kenny got home so that he wouldn't do anything stupid.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the case.

An hour and a half later, Kenny hobbled into the apartment out of breath and sweating profusely. "I don't know if you're aware, but you totally left me." He glanced over at his roommate who was laughing along to some reality show on television and rolled his eyes. "What are you watching that's so funny?"

"Ken?" Kyle craned his neck to get a look at the blonde who was standing in front of the door with an armful of books. The smile that he was currently donning grew wider and he pushed himself up off the couch, ran over to the other and threw himself forcefully into Kenny's arms, causing Kenny's to let the books drop to the floor with a _thud._ "I missed you so much!"

The wind was knocked out of Kenny for a second but he couldn't help but laugh breathlessly along with the redhead. Then he remembered who he was dealing with and what had happened almost two hours earlier, so he pulled away from the shorter man and lifted a brow in confusion. "Alright, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, I just missed you!" Kyle giggled while trying to worm his way back into Kenny's embrace. The scent of apple-flavored liquor on his breath was nothing that could go unnoticed, though. "Can't I miss my best friend sometimes?"

"You've been drinking," Kenny deduced while holding Kyle at arms length. The redhead let out a sort of frustrated whine and pushed himself back against Kenny's chest with a forceful jolt forward. "You're drunk. Stop that."

"I'm not drunk, I just had a little bit to drink," Kyle defended himself as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of Kenny's neck, making the blonde shudder a bit. "It's just a buzz; I know my limits. If you want, the rest of the alcohol is in the kitchen... oh, how about we take some shots? We haven't done that since college."

Kenny wanted to tell him no, that they shouldn't take shots because Kyle was already acting sort of ditzy with _just_ a buzz and he wasn't sure getting full-blown shitfaced after what had just happened at Stan's would be a good idea, but Kyle's hot breath on his neck was stirring an inopportune warmth in the depths of his gut, making it a bit hard to deny Kyle what he wanted.

"Just a couple," Kenny said as he felt something warm and wet trace the underside of his jaw. He screwed his eyes shut and bit back a moan; this was the last thing either of them needed at that moment. "Kyle, stop that, you don't know what you're d—"

"I have a better idea," Kyle purred while pulling away from the blonde. He began tugging at the zipper of Kenny's parka, disposing of it off to the side somewhere once it was undone. Despite Kenny's stuttering for him to 'knock it off', his fingers found themselves tangled up in Kenny's shirt collar, pulling him down to shut him up with a hard kiss.

Kenny's head was reeling the second their lips met, unsure whether or not he should rip himself away from the persistent redhead or if he should just enjoy the moment. Morale almost won over when he managed to break away for a breath of air, but once their eyes locked, that was it; he couldn't play nice anymore.

Kenny found himself pushing Kyle against the arm of the couch, his fingers tangled in Kyle's hair as their tongues battled for dominance in a heated kiss. Kyle's own fingers were pulling at the blonde's belt, hellbent on getting it undone. Kenny tried to arch his hips away from Kyle's grasp, thinking he could at least keep the possible impending damage down to a minimum, but it proved futile. Soon enough, his jeans were barely hanging from his thighs and his erection was pressed up against Kyle's clothed one.

While Kenny was silently congratulating himself for picking the perfect day to go commando as he began working on unbuttoning Kyle's pants, Kyle had a plethora of things running through his head: He knew he shouldn't have been doing this. He was more than well aware of how he got with alcohol in his system—touchy and clingy and _sexual_—but he also knew it'd help him calm down, and now he wanted this. He wanted Kenny around him, on him, _in _him. He wasn't Stan, and for some reason that made him happy. It made him feel as if he was taking a big leap forward, like Kenny could help cleanse Kyle in a way.

On the other hand, it made Kyle sad. He'd meant what he said at the house about not needing him. There'd be no more tossing jokes back and forth while sitting around and playing video games, no more stupid Terrance and Phillip marathons, and no more nights spent with Stan in secret. He wouldn't get to hear Stan say his name in _that_ way ever again, and, _Jesus Christ_, he could never run his hands over Stan's perfectly chiseled chest again.

For a second, he couldn't help but imagine that Stan was the one whose hand was palming him through his boxers and trailing sloppy kisses all along his neck.

"Mmm, Stan," Kyle moaned as he bucked his boxer-clad hips into Kenny. The blonde was immediately torn out of his thoughts and he shoved Kyle back against the couch, causing him to stumble due to his pants being bunched up around his thighs. It took him a second to process what had just happened while he stood there, staring at Kyle incredulously with his mouth agape.

"Did you just call me... what the fuck," Kenny breathed while running a hand through his messy blonde hair. He didn't know whether to be hurt, worried, or down right pissed off. "Is that who you think about when you kiss me, Kyle? That's who you pretend I am?" He began to tug his jeans back up around his waist and buckled his belt. "If we'd of just gone through with—with _this_, Stan is who you'd of been imagining?"

He waited as patiently as he could for Kyle to say something, but the redhead offered nothing in return. Instead, his eyes wandered from Kenny's to the floor in shame. He didn't mean to say Stan's name out loud, but he did, and now here he was.

"Newsflash: I'm not some fucking imitation of Stan, alright?" Kenny all but screamed at the man standing across from him when he didn't receive an answer. "Unlike that fucking asshole, I actually care about you, Kyle—I fucking love you!"

The most uncomfortable silence of their lives fell over them in that moment, the both of them just staring at each other wide-eyed and freaked out. Before Kyle could even attempt to ask Kenny what he was talking about, Kenny had booked it for the balcony, cursing under his breath along the way.

He stepped outside and shakily reached for the pack of cigarettes he kept on the small plastic table and shook one out. He lit it up and took a drag. He didn't want to say what he did, but he couldn't hold it back any longer, no after _that._

After another hit, he remembered that Kyle didn't want him smoking and flicked the cigarette over the edge, which was soon followed up by the whole pack. He sneered at them on their journey to the pavement below.

Fuck those cigarettes.

Fuck _everything._

"I'm proud of you."

He whipped his head around to find Kyle a few feet behind him, standing in the doorway. Kenny scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. "What the fuck ever."

Kyle sighed and took a seat in one of the vacant lawn chairs and silently watched Kenny for a few minutes as he leaned over the wrought iron railing, looking as if he were trying to estimate how far he'd fall if he decided to jump over it. Kyle hoped that wasn't the case.

"What you said in there," Kyle began slowly, "Did you... did you mean it?"

Kenny stopped messing around with the rail and looked over at the inquiring redhead. His own impassive expression faltered and he nodded his head, taking a seat in the other lawn chair across from Kyle.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"But... how?"

"What do you mean 'how'?" Kenny asked hotly, beginning to grow annoyed again. "I'm not going to answer something with such an obvious answer."

Kyle decided not to press further even though he honestly had no idea what was so obvious about it and instead settled on another question:

"How long have you... you know. _Liked_ me?"

Kenny's demeanor softened. "I love you."

Kyle found himself scratching behind his ear nervously. "Oh. Um, well how long?"

"I don't know," Kenny sighed and looked up at the stars. "Since high school, I guess."

"Since—Kenny, what?"

"I said high school," he repeated. He turned his focus back to the amused redhead and gave him a wry smile. "It was after you started having a thing for Stan... funny how I'm always late, huh." he chuckled. "I always thought that maybe if I'd of just noticed you a little sooner then I'd of been the one you'd be with and not out chasing Mr. Perfect 'I-Have-a-White-Picket-Fence-and-a-Dog' Stan Marsh. But whatever. I guess it's what I deserve."

"No, that isn't what you deserve, Ken," Kyle assured him hesitantly. "You're so amazing, and—and I don't want you to ever think you're not good enough. It's just that I... I don't... I'm sorry."

"I know I'm good enough," Kenny snorted with a roll of his eyes. "You don't have to tell me twice. I've actually got you to thank for that; you were the reason I made it through high school and most of college. You pushed me to be better, to _be_ good enough for you." He looked down. "But it doesn't really matter _what_ I am if I'm not what you want."

Kyle frowned, putting two and two together. "Is this the reason you were so gung ho about helping me forget about Stan? Because you thought... because you thought I'd end up liking you?"

Kenny didn't answer.

"I don't like you like that, Kenny."

"I know."

"I don't... I don't think I ever could."

"I know."

It was beginning to sound like an exact replica of the conversation that he had in the Harbuck's coffee shop when Stan told him that they needed to quit fooling around. He'd always wonder what it'd of been like if he were on the other side of that table and now he knew. It wasn't as gratifying as he thought it'd be; he actually felt pretty horrible.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," he said, going to stand up. "This whole thing is a stupid idea. I can't just sit here and use you for my own benefit when you have actual feelings for me, Ken. Let's just call this quits, alright?"

"No. No, don't—look, just listen to me for a second," Kenny jumped from his seat, worried that Kyle was about to leave. Kyle waited for Kenny to continue but he just stood there, eyes locked with the redhead with a contemplative look on his face. Eventually he closed his eyes, let out a sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Let's... keep doing this. Let me still help you."

Kyle furrowed his brows. "What? Why?"

"I know it sounds crazy but I don't want to give this up. Even if it's not real," he answered quietly, opening his eyes. He immediately regretted doing so when he felt tears begin to threaten him. He blinked them away. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this, it's not even funny, Kyle. And now I have a chance—I mean, I know it's not a _chance,_ but it's something, and at this point I'll take what I can get." He forced a smile. "That's how much I love you, Ky—enough to seriously beg for scraps of your affection like some sort of stray dog. I don't ask for a lot, so just... at least give me this."

Kyle just stared at him dolefully. He sort of felt as if he were right back at square one with Kenny convincing him to trust the blonde and let him help with getting over Stan, except this time there was a lot more on the line; not only his own feelings, but now Kenny's.

"Kenny, I can't do that. Not when I know I'll be consciously hurting you."

Kenny shook his head, his eyes bright and glazed over. "But you _won't_ be hurting me. Just trust me, alright? _Please_," He reached forward and grabbed at the shorter man's wrists. "We'll both get what we want. You'll get over Stan, and I'll get... this."

Knowing that Kenny wouldn't take no for an answer, Kyle frowned. "Fine," he caved. "But if things get too hard for you to handle, I want you to tell me so we can stop this. I really don't want to hurt you, Ken. You're the best thing I've got going for me right now." He instantly regretted that last part, hating the fact that he was stringing Kenny along like this but Kenny's feelings were dancing on the other end of the emotional spectrum, causing him to grin stupidly as a sort of comforting warmth filled his chest.

"Yeah, okay," Kenny agreed and began to make his way into the apartment, dragging Kyle along with him. "It's been a long day so maybe we should turn in early. I'll get dinner started, alright? Is uh... are burgers alright? They're quick and easy."

Kyle could only nod in response.

The rest of the night was eerily quiet with Kyle on edge as Kenny attempted to fill the newly created awkward void between them with mindless chatter, but it didn't work. Kenny had sat across from Kyle as they ate, trying to spark a conversation about Word of Warcraft that didn't go anywhere. He'd even suggested a quick movie before bed, only to end up stealing curious glances at the redhead next to him before being caught and looking away. He wanted so badly to know what line he'd crossed with the added information of his feelings for the Jew and what Kyle was thinking. It didn't help that Kyle said all of six words though, blank-faced and rigid the whole time.

Bedtime was no different, though Kenny did get a little bold and managed to pull Kyle against him, making Kyle rest his head on the blonde's stretched out upper arm while Kenny had his head turned to the side, nuzzling his nose into Kyle's messy red curls. He wanted to wrap his other arm around the redhead but he didn't want to take it too far; he knew he'd already shocked Kyle enough for the day, but Kyle's stiffness was starting to make Kenny really worry that he'd done something else wrong without realizing it.

Little did Kenny know though that Kyle's stringent disposition had nothing to do with him and was instead caused by Kyle's own thoughts and concerns for his bedmate. That whole evening, he couldn't get over the fact that he was doing exactly what Stan had done; he was using Kenny, and Kenny was completely willing to go along with everything. It made his stomach twist up in knots and he wanted to shout at his reflection in a mirror, but he kept his cool and was able to contain himself.

"If you need to, pretend I'm Stan." Kenny whispered against Kyle's hair. "It might help you feel a bit more comfortable."

Kyle was brought out of his torturous thoughts when he heard Kenny speaking, finding himself relax considerably. Even though Kenny had really dropped a bomb on him in the living room earlier, he couldn't help but still feel at ease with him. He didn't understand why, but for some reason feeling surrounded by the blonde made him feel safe, so he turned onto his side and cuddled into Kenny, his cheek pressed firmly against Kenny's chest. Maybe the reality of it all would sink in tomorrow, but for now he was alright. Kenny gave a sad smile to nobody in particular at his bittersweet victory.

That night, Kyle slept peacefully to the combined sound of the loud fan and Kenny's even breathing, feeling oddly content as Kenny stared at the ceiling and forced himself not to tear up at the idea that Kyle was imagining Stan while trying to fall asleep, when in reality, Stan was the farthest thing from the redhead's thoughts.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Damn, Kyle didn't get into Kenny's pants! Well that's alright, we're about one or two chapters off from some much needed sexytime.. ;) haha yeah. Fun Fact: That thing with the excavator actually happened to me. I work in construction and my coworker Mike seriously fucked me up. Whatevs. ANYWAYS I apologize for some of the parts of this chapter if they're lacking. I've been sitting here for like 7 straight hours pounding this out (totally scrapped what I had before, so that explains why on Earth it took me two damn weeks to update this). It's like 7k motherfucking words though, so goddamn I hope that's not too much. Also, holy shit you guys, the REVIEWS. WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ALL OF THOSE JESUS CHRIST.

**Yuruki14** - I'd have to say I sympathize with Kenny the most, but Kyle definitely has his hands full and poor Wendy... well, hopefully she'll find out what her stupid husband has been up to and put him in his place ;)

**Mousebride -** Yeah, I understand Stan seems a bit OOC but it's because I'm attempting to emphasize on what I'd imagine would be his sort of pent up angst/aggression from always being overshadowed by Wendy and finally getting a chance to take it out on Kyle... I mean, I don't usually imagine this being a real thing but in this AU, it exists. I'll be working on getting Stan's normal 'friend' self back in there a bit, though :)

**Amberr-Lynn -** Oh my Christ, you have no idea how much your review had pretty much made my whole entire friggin WEEK. Seriously, just... idfohkjdflg. Thank you so much!

**Animegrl421 -** LOL. This chapter is seriously dedicated to you since you apparently tried to stay up until like 3am waiting for me to publish it. Sorry it's a bit late, but I mean... hey, I left in that bit of fluff in the beginning I said I would :) I hope this can hold you over 'til your next fix!

**azngirlLH - **Thanks! Hopefully Kenny _can_ finish that degree of his... who knows ;P I agree, though; Kenny can def. do a lot more than be a useless homeless drug addict! I imagine he'd be pretty damn hard working and persistent. The bit with Kenny and Damien... well, it's necessary... for reasons. I know Kenny's supposed to be immortal and can't be killed unless it's by another immortal, but I mean I needed to make a couple lame adjustments for this story so excuse me :P ALSO. I JUST RECENTLY REALIZED that you're the one to blame for multiple boners (I didn't know _**that**_ art was done by you!) and also you're 1/2 of the reason I seriously MADE this story. Your one collab artwork where the boys are all dressed up in Korean street fashion or something and you made Kyle sitting on Kenny as if he were a chair? Yeah. That gave me this one idea and it expanded into THIS story. There'll be a later chapter where it will be quite obvious it got inspiration from that photo, so you'll know :) :)


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